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PRINCETON  .  NEW  JERSEY 

FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
ROBERT  ELLIOTT  SPEER 


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BV  4501  .P43  1887 
Pearse,  Mark  Guy,  1842-1930 
Some  aspects  of  the  blessed 
life  ' 


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SOME  ASPECTS 


OF 


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f;-n   6  1959 


THE  BLESSED  LIFE, 


MARK    GUY    PEARSE, 

AUTHOR   OF    "THOUGHTS   ON    HOLINESS,"    ETC  ,    ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 
PHIL  LIP, H    &    HUNT. 

CINCINNATI: 

CliA.YSTOX    it    STOWE. 

1887. 


Copyright,   1S87,  by 

PHILLIPS    &    HUNT, 

New  York. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 


PAGE 


I.  How  THE  Blessed  Life  Begins 5 

II,  Meditation  Illustrated 20 

III.  Forgiveness 36 

IV.  The  Blood  of  Christ  in  Relation  to  the 

Blessed  Life 58 

V.  Communion 78 

VI.  Communion. — Continued 107 

VII.  "  My  Lord  and  my  God" 124 

VIII.  Consecrated  and  Transformed 140 

IX.  Behind  Him — Before  Him 163 

X.  Love 180 

XL  Rest 196 

XII.  Trust,  the  Secret  of  Rest 210 


SOME  ASPECTS 


BLESSED    LIFE 


CHAPTER  I. 

HOW  THE   BLESSED   LIFE  BEGINS. 

"  Blessed  is  the  man  that  walketh  not  in  the  counsel  of  the 
ungodly,  nor  standeth  in  the  way  of  sinners,  nor  sitteth  in  the 
seat  of  the  scornful :  but  his  delight  is  in  the  law  of  the  Lord ; 
and  in  his  law  doth  he  meditate  day  and  night." — PsALM 
i.  I,  2. 

Blessed — this  is  the  first  word  of  the  book 
of  Psalms,  and  this  is  the  key-note  of  all  its 
songs.  Here,  as  frontispiece,  is  set  the  pict- 
ure of  the  blessed  man,  and  here  is  the  begin- 
ning of  the  blessed  life.  The  after  history 
follows  it  through  many  changes,  through 
troubled  days  and  gracious  deliverance,  until 
at  last  it  reaches  the  land  where  sorrow  and 
sighing  are  fled  away,  and,  day  and  night, 
praise  fills  the  holy  temple. 

Very  full  of  meaning  is  the  background  of 


6  Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

the  picture.  There  are  three  groups,  having 
little  to  do  with  each  other  yet  bound  to- 
gether by  dreadful  bonds ;  so  that  the  first 
group  is  ever  moving  on  to  become  the  second, 
and  the  second  goes  on  in  turn  to  become  the 
third.  The  first  group  is  of  men  who  are 
walking  and  talking ;  as  if  of  unsettled  thoughts 
and  of  unsettled  ways.  The  second  group 
stands  busied,  as  if  thought  and  way  were  now 
decided  and  being  carried  out.  Then  the 
company  is  broken  up,  and  the  ungodly  who 
walked  in  counsel,  and  the  sinners  who  stood 
in  their  ways,  sit,  each  by  himself,  in  the  seat 
of  the  scorner. 

Walking,  standing,  sitting — these  are  the 
three  stages ;  counsel,  way,  seat — these  are 
the  three  degrees.  Ungodly — without  God — 
this  is  the  first  character;  sinners  —  actual 
transgressors  and  rebels — this  is  the  second 
character;  the  third  is  the  scorner;  he  ever 
sitteth  alone. 

But  are  there  any  such  hard  and  rigid  lines 
as  these  marking  off"  men  from  each  other  ? 
There  are  lights  and  shades  of  character ; 
good  points  that  mingle  with  the  evil ;  is  it 
not  the  mistake  of  theology  to  classify  and  la- 


Hoiv  the  Blessed  Life  Begins,  7 

bel  our  poor  humanity  as  botanists  do  their 
dead  and  dried  specimens  ?  Is  not  the  fact 
rather  that  there  are  infinite  varieties  and 
play  of  circumstances ;  a  thousand  influences 
that  help  and  hinder  men  in  a  thousand  dif- 
ferent ways  ?  Our  nature  is  as  various  and  as 
changeful  as  the  sea.  We  look  out  on  it  some- 
times asleep  in  the  sunshine,  and  so  still  that 
the  winds  hold  their  breath  as  if  for  fear  of 
waking  it,  and  sometimes  black  with  storm 
and  roaring  furiously — a  thing  so  cruel  in  its 
rage  !  Here  it  creeps  up  the  yellow  sands,  with 
curve  and  glassy  edge,  and  there  it  thunders  on 
the  rocks,  with  burst  of  white  foam  flung 
against  the  sky.  Yet  down  beneath  the  infi- 
nite variety — the  currents  and  cross-currents, 
the  waves  that  sweep  onward  and  the  roar 
and  rattle  of  the  backward  rush — there  is  ever, 
unchanging,  resistless,  the  power  of  the  tide 
that  draws  the  whole  sea  hither  and  thither. 
So  is  it  that,  away  beneath  the  surface  varieties 
of  our  humanity  and  force  of  circumstance, 
there  is  the  power  of  the  tide  that  draws  us. 
We  have  the  power  to  choose,  but  within 
that  choice  are  laws  which  we  cannot  resist : 
that  thoughts  must  grow  to  deeds,  and  deeds 


8  Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

must  strengthen  into  habits.  We  may  choose 
our  starting-point,  but,  having  chosen  it,  of  this 
be  sure  :  that  the  walk  makes  the  way,  and 
the  way  decides  the  end.  This  division  of 
men  is  an  awful  fact.  The  indifferent  drift, 
drawn  by  the  current  that  sets  earthward  and 
downward,  going  farther  and  farther  away 
from  the  shore.  The  blessed  find  another 
power,  that  draws  them  upward  and  God- 
ward. 

There  are  three  steps  into  the  outer  dark- 
ness :  neglecting,  rejecting,  despising. 

Few  things  in  the  language  are  more  pow- 
erful than  the  poem  entitled  "  The  Vision  of 
Sin,"  in  which  Tennyson  tracks  some  man  of 
splendid  gifts  along  this  course  and  on  to  the 
seat  of  the  scorner.  Read  it ;  the  first  part 
slowly  and  aloud,  so  as  to  feel  its  music.  Then 
let  the  soul  be  caught  and  swept  along  with 
the  fierce  current  of  its  passionate  utterances 
in  the  second  part.  Then  comes  the  third 
part,  a  dreary  monotone,  full  only  of  a  cold, 
black,  dreadful  scorn — 

"  A  pjray  and  gap-toothed  man,  as  lean  as  death, 
Who  slowly  rode  across  a  withered  heath, 
And  lighted  at  a  ruined  inn,  and  said : 


Hoiv  the  Blessed  Life  Begins. 

"  '  Fill  the  cup  and  fill  the  can  ! 
Mingle  madness,  mingle  scorn  ! 
Dregs  of  life  and  lees  of  man.'  " 


Then  comes  the  hollow  sneer  at  all  things. 
And  then  the  vision  ends — 

"  Below  were  men  and  horses  pierced  with  worms, 
And  slowly  quickening  into  lower  forms, 
By  shards  and  scurf  of  salt  and  scum  of  dross, 
Old  plash  of  rains,  and  refuse  patched  with  moss. 

4:  4:  4:  ^  * 

And  on  the  glimmering  limits  far  withdrawn, 
God  made  himself  an  awful  rose  of  dawn." 

This  is  the  poetic  rendering  of  the  background 
of  the  picture.  Then  thinks  the  blessed  man, 
as  he  looks  out  on  these  things,  "  There  surely 
is  another  way  than  that,  if  I  can  but  find  it. 
God  cannot  have  sent  me  into  the  world  for 
that — cannot  have  put  things  together  so  as 
to  make  that  the  inevitable.  O  for  some  other 
counsel,  some  other  companionship,  which 
shall  guide  my  steps  into  a  way  of  peace  ! 
What  strong  hand,  what  wise  guide  is  there  ?  " 
Here  he  has  found  the  answer — in  the  word 
of  God.  He  sits,  and  upon  his  face  there  is 
thrown  a  reflected  light,  that  comes  from  the 
open  book  that  lies  before  him  ;  his  delight  is 


lO        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

in  the  law  of  the  Lord,  and  in  his  law  doth  he 
meditate  day  and  night.  Between  himself 
and  these  others  there  comes  the  law  of  the 
Lord;  an  authority  mighty,  majestic,  supreme, 
yet  not  a  burden  or  a  hardship  ;  his  delight 
is  in  the  law  of  the  Lord. 

The  blessed  life  grows  right  up  out  of  the 
word  of  God  rightly  used.  The  blessed  man 
does  not  read  it  only,  does  not  only  search  it, 
he  jnediiates  in  it  day  and  night.  The  law 
of  the  Most  High  God  is  accepted  by  him  in 
all  the  completeness  of  its  claim.  And  medi- 
tating in  the  word,  he  finds  in  turn  all  that 
constitutes  the  foundation  of  the  blessed  life. 
Contact  with  the  solemn  presence  of  Jehovah  ; 
a  holy  fear  and  reverence  before  him  ;  a  lowly 
obedience  that  waits  listening  to  his  voice, 
and  heeding  it  earnestly  ;  a  lofty  ideal  of  life 
in  its  origin  and  purpose  ;  a  blessed  conscious- 
ness of  an  ever-ready  help,  almighty  and  most 
merciful ;  a  vision  of  holiness,  kindling  desire 
and  inspiring  hope  ;  a  brave  trust  in  God  as 
ordering  all  things ;  a  patient  and  tender  love 
for  all  men — these  are  the  gifts  and  graces 
that  wait  for  him,  gifts  which  he  can  find  in 
such  rich  fullness  nowhere  else,  and  which  he 


How  the  Blessed  Life  Begins.  1 1 

can  get  at  in  no  other  way  than  by  meditating 
in  the  word. 

Of  this  let  us  be  well  assured,  that  in  the 
blesssd  life  this  tneditation  is  the  starting-point . 
Whatever  we  need  to  see,  to  know,  to  be,  be- 
gins in  meditation  on  the  word.  In  the  world 
a  man  sees  only  the  point  of  time  we  call  the 
present.  Away  on  every  hand  there  lies  the 
infinite,  the  eternal,  but  the  eye  sees  only  that 
which  it  is  bent  over.  The  man  is  in  contact 
only  with  earth  and  his  neighbors.  All  the 
consciousness  of  mind  and  heart,  all  the  pow- 
ers of  body  and  soul,  are  wrapped  about  the 
little  business  of  the  day.  Hope  and  de- 
sire, which  should  soar  into  the  heavens,  are 
caged  within  these  bars.  To  go  up  the  mount 
of  meditation  is  to  pass  out  of  narrow  ways 
and  busy  tumult  up  into  an  ampler,  purer  air; 
out  of  dusty  roads  to  dewy  freshness.  We 
begin  then  to  see  the  true  proportions  of 
things.  The  present  is  lost,  and  the  eternal 
unfolds  itself.  The  city  sleeps  in  mists  below 
us,  and  the  great  heaven  arches  us.  New  fac- 
ulties begin  to  unfold  themselves  in  the  still- 
ness. There  opens  within  us  an  eye  that  sees 
the  unseen,  an  ear  that  hears  other  voices. 


1 2         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

And  there,  as  of  old,  in  the  cool  of  the  day, 
comes  the  very  presence  of  God  himself  to 
walk  and  talk  with  his  child. 

He  cannot  know  the  blessed  life  who  does 
not  secure  for  himself  this  leisure — to  be  still 
in  God's  presence  ;  to  listen  and  long  for  his 
coming;  to  give  up  the  soul  to  communion 
with  him.  Religion  does  not  require  that  we 
should  neglect  any  business  which  duty  bids 
us  do,  rather  it  commends  diligence.  But  re- 
ligion does  require  that  we  so  manage  our 
business  as  to  secure  this  quiet,  earnest,  devout 
meditating  in  the  law  of  the  Lord.  Let  there 
be  what  there  may  besides  this,  there  can  be 
no  substitute  for  it.  Endless  religious  activi- 
ties, sermons,  services,  meetings,  missions — 
these  things  make  this  quiet  meditation  only 
the  more  needful.  About  us  on  every  side  are 
specimens  of  the  religious  life  that  are  stum- 
bling-blocks to  the  world  and  a  perplexity  to 
the  Church.  A  religious  life  always  on  the 
verge  of  extinction  ;  a  living  death  ;  without 
any  regular  meals  or  "  visible  means  of  sup- 
port," it  exists  on  scraps  and  crusts  picked  up 
anywhere  ;  it  clothes  itself  in  such  scanty 
clothing  as  it  can  find  ;    it  stands   shivering, 


How  the  Blessed  Life  Begins.  13 

looking  wistfully  in  at  the  world's  fire,  glad  to 
warm  itself  when  no  one  is  looking,  or  when 
those  about  it  are  not  too  particular  ;  trying 
to  snatch  a  little  comfort  as  it  lingers  on  the 
verge  of  the  world's  pleasure.  It  is  the  relig- 
ious life  without  any  strong,  habitual,  whole- 
some meditation  in  the  word.  Again,  there 
is  a  very  common  religious  life  that  is  for  the 
most  part  peevish,  querulous,  grumbling ; 
wholly  selfish,  it  is  utterly  incapable  of  any 
brave  endurance,  of  any  patient  self-denial, 
without  strength  or  beauty.  It  is  the  religious 
life  that  craves  for  stimulants.  It  lives  on  re- 
ligious excitement  —  tears,  thrills,  raptures. 
This,  too,  is  the  religious  life  without  either 
the  milk  or  the  strong  meat  of  the  word  ;  it 
never  meditates  in  the  law  of  the  Lord.  We 
cannot  lay  too  much  stress  upon  it — we  can- 
not too  earnestly  impress  it  upon  ourselves. 
If  this  quiet,  earnest,  habitual  meditation  be 
lacking,  we  can  know  nothing  of  the  blessed 
life.  If  this  be  ours,  then  is  the  blessed  life 
begun. 

And  do  not  let  us  think  of  this  exercise  as 
only  a  foundation  on  which  we  build.  Much 
more  than  that — it  is  as  the  sap  of  the  soul. 


14         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

Meditation  carries  the  purifying  and  repairing 
forces  of  the  word  throughout  the  whole 
nature.  "  Now  ye  are  clean,"  said  the  Lord 
to  his  disciples ;  "  now  ye  are  clean  through 
the  word  which  I  have  spoken  unto  you."  The 
word  of  God  cleanses  the  thoughts  and  the 
motives  and  the  imagination.  No  life  is  lower 
or  more  hopeless  than  his  in  whom  every  sight 
is  made  to  minister  to  a  foul  imagination. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  few  shall  walk  the 
earth  more  safely  than  they  whose  minds  are 
hung  about  with  pure  visions ;  within  whose 
crystal  walls  there  entereth  nothing  that  de- 
fileth  or  maketh  unclean.  Let  meditation  be 
the  limner  whose  hands  shall  set  in  glowing 
colors  the  scenes  of  God's  word  about  the 
"  chambers  of  the  imagery." 

Note  further,  that  this  meditation  is  not 
reverie — dreaming.  It  is  so  thinking  about 
God,  and  so  searching  for  him  in  the  word,  that 
it  soon  passes  into  the  glow  and  blessedness  of 
communion  with  him.  We  may  venture,  I 
think,  to  alter  the  word,  and  say  :  "  His  delight 
is  in  the  love  of  the  Lord,  and  in  his  love  doth 
he  meditate  day  and  night."  Sweet  and  hal- 
lowed   companionship  is  ours   with  that  best 


How  the  Blessed  Life  Begins.  15 

Friend  and  dearest  Brother,  who  walks  and 
talks  with  us  whenever  we  meditate  upon  his 
word.  Not  alone  we  sit.  "  I  will  conne  unto 
you,"  is  his  promise.  And  this  is  the  ap- 
pointed place  ;  here  he  bids  us  wait  and  look 
for  himself.  Beside  this  stream,  whose  waters 
make  glad  the  city  of  God,  and  underneath  this 
tree  of  life,  is  his  trysting-place.  And  in  that 
presence  to  lose  the  loneliness  of  life ;  to  for- 
get the  fear  and  weakness ;  to  have  him  as 
our  own  ;  to  find  the  mind  illumined  as  he 
opens  the  understanding ;  to  find  the  prom- 
ises so  rich,  and  full,  and  personal,  and  pres- 
ent, as  he  opens  the  word ;  and  to  have  the 
faith  emboldened  till,  like  John,  it  leans  on 
his  bosom,  and,  with  Thomas,  calls  him  "  My 
Lord  and  my  God  ;  "  to  have  in  him  the  past 
hushed — a  holy  calm  which  no  voice  of  con- 
demnation breaks  ;  to  have  in  him  the  future 
all  lit  up  with  the  glow  of  heaven's  sunny  dis- 
tance ;  to  find  the  love  of  all  the  heart  drawn 
out  and  satisfied  in  him :  this  is  blessedness 
indeed.     So  comes  the  blessed  life. 

"  He  shall  be  like  a  tree."  The  word  tree 
has  the  same  source  as  the  word  truth — that 
which  stands  and   abides.     The  blessed  man 


l6       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life, 

is  he  who  has  got  something  to  liold  on  with 
— and  he  has  got  something  to  hold  on  to.  "  A 
tree  planted."  The  roots  are  wrapped  about 
the  stones.  The  principles  have  taken  hold  of 
God's  everlasting  truth.  The  ungodly  are  like 
the  chaff — there  is  neither  rest  nor  resting- 
place — whirled  hither  and  thither,  now  up  into 
the  heavens,  now  trampled  into  the  mud.  O, 
the  calm  of  the  blessed  man !  It  may  blow  a 
hurricane,  tossing  the  branches,  sweeping  the 
leaves,  but  the  roots  hold  to  the  rocks. 
Where  else  can  a  man  find  the  Abiding,  and 
the  Almighty,  and  the  Authority  that  can 
give  him  so  settled  and  sure  a  hold  as  this? 
The  word  of  the  Lord  abideth,  and  abideth 
for  ever.  Blessed  indeed  is  it,  amid  the 
shifting  things  of  life,  its  trembling  uncertain- 
ties, its  fleeting  shadows,  to  get  on  to  the 
granite  of  God's  own  truth  for  a  foundation. 
"He  shall  be  like  a  tree  planted  by  the  rivers 
of  water" — not  only  firmness  and  strength 
shall  he  find  here  ;  not  a  commandment  only, 
but  a  promise  ;  not  only  a  law,  but  that  which 
ministers  to  life.  The  word  is  a  refreshment, 
a  secret  source  of  nourishment.  Fierce  heats 
may  beat,  and   summer  droughts  may  linger 


How  the  Blessed  Life  Begins.  17 

lone,  but  the  river  of  God  is  ever  full  of 
water. 

"  He  bringeth  forth  his  fruit  in  his  season." 
A  man  suited  for  the  times,  who  hath  hope 
for  the  spring-time,  and  joy  for  the  summer, 
and  peace  for  the  autumn,  and  patience  for  the 
winter.  Like  trees  whereon  the  many  grafts 
present  a  variety  of  fruits,  some  late,  some 
early,  he  bringeth  forth  gentleness  and  brave 
faith,  and  all  the  year  round  the  golden  fruit 
of  love  and  praise.  This  meditation  on  the 
word  is  the  secret  of  blessedness.  Strength, 
stability,  and  gentleness  are  the  sure  outcome 
of  it. 

And  beginning  with  the  presence  of  God 
in  the  word,  he  goes  forth  to  find  that  pres- 
ence in  the  world,  to  find  that  "  law  of  the 
Lord  "  every-where  and  in  every  thing.  God's 
voice  meets  him  in  the  business  and  hallows  it. 
His  presence  is  felt  in  the  pleasure,  and  his 
great  law  of  love  encompasses  him  with  favor 
as  with  a  shield. 

"  His  leaf  also  shall  not  wither."  The  tree 
has  two  ends,  root  and  leaf.  The  root  that 
abides  unmoved  in  every  season — firm  as  the 
ground  in  which  it  sets  its  hold  ;  and  the  leaf- 


1 8        Sojne  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

end,  sporting  with  the  sunshine,  dripping  with 
the  showers,  whispering  to  the  breeze,  swayed 
by  the  Hghtest  breath.  The  principles  are  the 
roots — they  never  yield  ;  but  the  blessed  man 
has  a  thousand  interests  and  sympathies  with 
a  thousand  passing  things — politics,  pleasures, 
friendships,  children  ;  and  because  the  root  is 
by  the  river,  the  furthest  leaf  is  green  ;  because 
the  principle  is  fixed,  the  outermost  thing  of 
life  shall  feel  its  wholesome  power,  and  be 
kept  in  health  and  beauty. 

"  Whatsoever  he  doeth  shall  prosper."  The 
blessed  man  is  ever  a  prosperous  man,  a  rich 
man — the  richest.  He  possesses  who  enjoys. 
He  possesses  who  turns  to  truest  account  the 
opportunities  of  life.  Sit  down  and  think  of 
an  ideal  prosperity.  Is  it  not  a  calm,  settled, 
contented  life,  without  the  madness  of  remorse, 
without  consuming  fear?  Prosperity  is  his 
who  has  had  the  breath  of  God  breathed  over 
him  with  his  "  peace,  be  still."  The  spirit  of 
God  has  brooded  over  him,  and  hushed  the 
storm,  and  ended  the  confusion,  and  brought 
light  and  rest  and  gladness. 

In  hope,  in  enjoyment,  in  memory,  in  sure 
confidence,  a  rich  and  prosperous  man  is  he  ; 


How  the  Blessed  Life  Begins.  19 

one  whom  kings  might  envy.  Putting  a  con- 
science into  his  work,  too,  and  doing  least 
things  as  unto  God,  what  he  does  shall  be  well 
done,  and  his  work  shall  prosper. 

So  he  goes  along  his  way  as  one  having 
dominion  ;  walking  the  earth  with  a  firm  step, 
knowing  whose  world  it  is,  and  whose  hand 
leads  him,  and  whither  he  is  going.  He 
knows  God's  law,  and  God  knows  his  way,  and 
in  that  knowledge  is  the  very  center  of  rest, 
and  the  secret  of  Heaven's  own  blessedness. 


20       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 


CHAPTER  II. 

MEDITATION  ILLUSTRATED. 

The  blessed  man  whose  portrait  is  given 
to  us  in  the  first  Psalm  meditatetJi  in  the  law  of 
the  Lord.  He  does  not  read  it  only,  does 
not  content  himself  even  with  searching  the 
Scriptures.  That  is  the  process  of  getting  in 
at  the  life  of  the  word,  and  getting  the  word 
into  the  life.  Food  has  in  itself  a  power  of 
imparting  vigour  to  our  whole  bodily  nature: 
to  the  brain,  and  it  thinks  ;  to  the  eye,  and  it 
sees ;  to  the  heart,  and  it  renews  its  far-reach- 
ing force.  So  the  word  is  the  "  sincere  milk," 
the  "  strong  meat,"  which  is  able  to  minister 
to  the  whole  of  our  spiritual  life — to  faith  and 
love  and  peace  and  joy  and  service.  But  be- 
fore the  food  can  feed  us  we  must  get  in  at  its 
essence,  ami  must  get  its  essence  into  us  ;  this 
is  the  puipose  of  digestion  and  assimila- 
tion. We  have  to  pass  the  word  through 
a  similar  process,  and  this  process  is  med- 
itation. 


Meditaiio:i  Illustrated.  21 

Let  us  turn  to  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis 
and  the  first  verse — "  In  the  beginning  God 
created  the  heaven  and  the  earth." 

Now  we  have  read  our  verse,  what  shall  we 
do  with  it  ?  He  who  reads  the  Bible,  and 
nothing  more,  has  done  what  he  thinks  to  be 
his  duty.  Let  him  go  on  his  way ;  he  will 
come  to-morrow  wondering  where  he  read ; 
was  it  the  first  verse,  or  was  it  the  second  ? 
And  he  will  often  wonder  how  it  is  that  he 
gets  so  little  good  from  reading  the  Bible. 
It  would  save  time  and  trouble — certainly  it 
would  save  his  doubts  as  to  the  place — if  he 
were  to  look  at  the  blank  page  at  the  end  of 
the  book,  or  even  at  the  covers  only.  But 
people  cannot  feed  themselves  by  looking  into 
the  baker's  window. 

Better  far  than  reading  is  searching,  even 
if  it  is  nothing  more  than  taking  the  marginal 
references  and  turning  to  them.  AYe  may 
read  without  thinking,  and  often  do.  But  in 
searching  the  Scriptures  we  get  the  word  at 
least  further  in  than  our  eyes.  When  we 
begin  to  search  we  transfer  that  for  which  we 
are  looking  into  the  thought. 

But   searching   industriously   and    dutifully 


22         So7ne   Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

may  be  a  very  dull,  hard,  dead  exercise.  A 
man  may  walk  in  Paradise  itself,  doing  noth- 
ing else  but  busily  botanizing,  geologizing,  col- 
lecting beetles,  arranging  and  classifying, 
pressing  or  pinning  his  specimens.  Our  com- 
ing into  Paradise  is  for  something  much  better 
and  more  blessed  than  all  that.  We  come  in 
the  cool  of  the  day,  watching  and  listening 
eagerly  for  Him  who  walketh  there,  and  who 
calleth  for  his  child.  Then  in  his  presence 
we  breathe  its  pure  air,  we  rest  in  its  delicious 
shade,  we  eat  its  fruit,  and  in  that  waiting 
upon  the  Lord  we  renew  our  strength. 

We  do  not  use  the  word  aright  until  it 
becomes  to  us  the  very  gate  of  our  Father's 
house,  through  which  we  enter  in  the  celestial 
city,  into  the  very  presence  of  the  king. 
"  These  are  they  which  testify  of  me,"  saith 
the  Lord.  God's  word  cannot  be  a  dead 
word — a  mummied  history,  a  fossil.  The 
breath  of  God  must  make  it  immortal.  But 
we  need  the  anointed  eye,  the  opened  ear, 
the  understanding  heart.  So  need  we  ever 
pray  for  this  same  moving  of  the  Spirit  of 
God  upon  us ;  then  light  ministers  to  life  and 
develops  it. 


Meditation  Illustrated.  23 

Do  not  be  discouraged  if  at  first  the  exer- 
cise seems  hard,  and  not  so  rich  in  profit  as 
you  hoped.  The  art  of  meditating,  Hke  every 
other  art,  has  to  be  learned.  The  process  of 
reading,  now  so  easy  that  you  are  unconscious 
of  any  effort  in  it,  was  once  a  tough  matter  of 
mastering  mysterious  signs  ;  of  stumbhng  over 
troublesome  letters,  with  tears,  and  fears  that 
you  would  never  be  able  to  read  as  others 
could.  The  work  is  surely  worth  the  effort. 
Here,  indeed,  the  diligent  soul  shall  be  made 
fat. 

And  do  not  suppose  that  meditation  requires 
a  long  time  alone.  It  must  begin  away  in  the 
inner  chamber,  alone  with  God.  But  thus 
begun,  our  thoughts  will  go  on  dwelling  on  the 
word,  finding  new  truth  and  sipping  fresh 
sweetness  from  it.  Yet  meditation  is  not  study, 
nor  is  it  dreaming.  It  is  that  passive  condi- 
tion in  which  we  open  the  doors  and  windows 
of  the  soul  to  the  blessed  influences  that 
gather  about  us  when  we  sit  with  the  book 
before  us  and  wait  for  the  coming  of  the  Lord. 
Meditation  is  not  an  act  of  the  mind  only,  but 
of  the  whole  man — so  that  the  word  stirs 
thought,  and  thought  stirs  prayer,  and  prayer 


24        Sojiie  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

passes  into  communion,  and  communion 
reveals  new  matter  for  meditation. 

As  a  specimen  of  meditating  in  the  word, 
let  us  turn  to  the  passage  we  have  chosen  : 
"In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven 
and  the  earth."  So  all  begins  with  God,  at 
once  and  immediately.  Not  from  nature  up 
to  God  am  I  to  move,  but  from  God  down  to 
nature.  And  so  at  the  outset  the  word 
demands  my  faith.  There  is  but  one  attitude 
for  studying  this  first  verse  of  Genesis,  as  for 
studying  any  part  of  the  Scriptures;  sitting 
with  meekness,  receiving  the  word  with  faith. 
Turn  to  the  record  of  the  triumphs  of  faith 
in  the  eleventh  chapter  of  the  Hebrews.  They 
begin  here.  "  Through  faith  we  understand 
that  the  worlds  were  framed  by  the  word  of 
God."  It  is  the  same  faith  that  works  the 
wonders  that  follow  in  the  chapter — the  faith 
that  finds  its  source  in  Jesus  Christ  himself, 
"  The  Author  and  Finisher  of  our  faith." 

It  may  seem  at  first  sight  as  if  it  needed 
no  faith  to  believe  that  God  created  the 
heaven  and  the  earth,  "  Of  course,"  you 
say,  "we  all  believe  that  some  one  must  have 
made  it  all,  and  that  some  one  is  God."     No, 


Meditation  Illustrated.  25 

you  cannot  find  God  thus — our  gracious  and 
loving  Father.  All  you  have  got  in  that  way 
is  a  far-off  logical  necessity,  a  great  first  cause, 
invented  to  complete  the  circle  of  our  reason- 
ing. That  is  not  God.  I  cannot  kneel  down 
to  that  first  cause  of  things  and  speak  to 
him.  And  not  even  logically  does  the  suppo- 
sition of  that  first  cause  satisfy  me.  I  find 
it  as  easy  to  think  of  eternal  matter  as  of 
eternal  spirit.  No,  we  cannot  by  any  such 
searching  find  out  God.  We  make  a  mistake 
which  has  cost  us  very  much  when  we  come 
down  from  the  high  ground  of  our  faith  and 
say,  "  Yes,  for  spiritual  things  faith  is  needful, 
but  in  nature  we  can  find  God  by  reason." 
Here,  as  every-where  else,  we  can  only  find 
him  by  faith. 

Look  at  it  as  an  historical  fact.  Have  men 
ever  received  the  story  of  the  creation  of  the 
world  by  God  except  where  faith  has  led 
them  ?  They  who  lived  so  much  nearer  the 
beginning  of  things,  who  saw  the  freshness  of 
the  Creator's  touch  on  his  handiwork,  went 
away  after  a  host  of  gods  that  they  themselves 
had  invented — logical  first  causes.  The  fath- 
ers of  science   and   the  founders  of  the  arts 


26         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

stumbled  at  this  fact  because  they  understood 
it  not  by  faith. 

But  to  us,  to  whom  the  Father  has  been 
revealed,  how  good  it  is  to  sit  at  his  feet  and 
to  listen  as  he  tells  us  of  the  beginning  of 
things  !  So,  except  we  become  as  little  chil- 
dren, we  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
God  here  or  elsewhere. 

Yet  do  not  think  for  a  moment  that  reason 
has  no  place  in  this  art  of  meditation.  They 
sin  against  God  and  against  themselves  who 
cast  reason  forth  as  one  that  mocketh. 
Reason  can  trace  God,  though  only  faith  can 
find  him.  It  is  needful  ever  that  reason  go 
forth  with  faith,  dwelling  upon  the  tokens  of 
his  presence,  showing  the  forces  and  beauties 
of  creation ;  the  wisdom  and  contrivance,  the 
vastness  and  wonder.  Reason  can  correct  the 
interpretation  that  faith  puts  on  her  Lord's 
words  ;  but  faith  is  ever  the  chosen  bride  to 
whom  the  King  revealeth  himself.  Reason, 
like  an  old,  wise  tutor,  goeth  with  faith,  and 
teacheth  her  to  see  new  meanings  in  the 
King's  words  ;  new  wonders  in  his  gifts  ;  new 
graces  in  his  dealings ;  new  glories  in  his 
character.     But  faith  alone  carries  the  sweet 


Meditation  Illustrated.  27 

secret  of  the  King's  favor.  Faith  saith  of  him, 
he  is  mine. 

And  as  the  story  of  the  creation  claims  our 
faith,  so  it  has  a  special  help  and  blessing  for 
our  faith. 

"  God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth."  See 
then,  my  soul,  the  completeness  of  his 
authority  over  thee  and  all  things.  We  count 
that  to  be  our  own  which  is  dependent  upon 
our  bounty  or  on  our  care,  and  we  claim  its 
service.  We  call  that  ours  which  we  have 
bought  with  our  money,  or  which  we  have 
fitted  for  our  use.  But  how  infinitely  above 
all  that  is  the  proprietorship  of  the  Creator  ! 
Look  up  to  him  !  How  completely  am  I  thine, 

0  God,  who  created  me  and  all  things  on 
which  I  depend  !  Thine  is  my  being,  my 
every  power  thine.  Thine  is  the  air  I 
breathe  ;  the  light  by  which  I  see ;  the  food 

1  eat ;  the  clothes  I  wear.  I  walk  upon  thy 
earth,  and  thy  hands  uphold  me  and  minister 
to  me  in  ten  thousand  ways.  Assert  thy 
claim  to  me,  for  I  would  be  wholly  thine,  and 
thine  in  every  thing. 

"  God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth." 
So,  then,  I  am  a  God-made  man  in  a  God-made 


28         Sonte  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

world.  My  soul,  give  thanks  that  the  devil 
had  no  finger  in  the  making  of  any  thing.  Do 
not  be  afraid  of  the  world  now  ;  thy  Father 
made  it,  and  he  can  give  thee  grace  to  use  it 
rightly  and  have  dominion  over  it.  Do  not 
be  afraid  of  thyself,  for  thou  too  art  his  handi- 
work. The  devil  did  but  put  out  of  joint  and 
service  what  God  had  made.  What  a  contrast 
is  the  great  utterance  of  this  verse  with  the 
meanness  and  poverty  of  the  tempter's  first 
appearance  in  the  next  chaper  but  one  !  Lift 
thyself  up,  then,  God's  own,  with  nothing 
within  thee,  nothing  about  thee,  but  that 
which  he  can  hallow  and  sanctify  and  use. 
He  who  made  us  at  the  first  understands  us, 
and  can  set  us  right  with  ourselves  and  with 
all  things,  and  can  keep  us  right ;  there- 
fore let  all  that  is  within  us  bless  his  holy 
name. 

"  God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth." 
O,  my  soul,  what  greatness,  what  safety,  what 
blessedness  are  thine !  He  who  made  all 
things  is  thy  Father,  and  thou  art  his  child. 
Think  of  his  great  power  who  setteth  the  sun 
in  the  heavens ;  and  he  careth  for  thee ! 
Think  of  his  wisdom   and  of  his   love,   who 


Meditation  Illustrated,  29 

arrangeth,  controlleth,  satisfieth  all  things. 
Go  forth  bravely  into  the  world,  knowing  that 
the  center  of  all  things  is  thy  Father ;  God — 
their  source  and  strength.  Therefore,  my 
soul,  thou  hast  no  room  to  fret  or  fear  ;  thou 
canst  but  trust  and  love  and  praise. 

"  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven 
and  the  earth."  So  all  begins— with  God. 
What  despair  had  settled  upon  the  earth  if 
she  turned  elsewhere  than  unto  God  !  Here 
is  the  great,  black,  shapeless  earth,  without 
form  and  void.  A  waste  of  waters,  wrapped  in 
darkness,  tossed  in  ceaseless  storm,  without  a 
ray  of  light,  without  a  breath  of  life,  a  blot 
upon  creation. 

Think  of  this  desolate  earth,  looking  away 
to  some  sister  world,  and  hearing  of  its  fair- 
ness— brilliantly  shining,  decked  with  beauty, 
where  trees  and  flowers  and  rippling  brooks 
make  up  a  paradise,  where  happy  life  sports 
on  the  land,  and  through  the  air  and  sea. 
Earth  turns  to  herself,  where  through  the 
dreadful  darkness  the  waves  sweep  restlessly, 
and  wild  winds  moan  as  if  God  had  forsaken 
her.  What  hope  is  there  for  her  ?  Can  she 
bid  a  sun  to  shine  ?     Can  she  set  the  water's 


30         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

bounds,  or  bring  in  the  mystery  of  life  ;  won- 
drous and  teeming  life  ?  "  No  hope,"  moans 
the  poor  earth,  looking  forth  into  its  dark- 
ness. Stay,  earth  !  God,  the  almighty  God, 
bends  over  thee.  He  decked  thy  sister 
worlds  with  beauty,  and  made  them  what 
they  are.  He  can  speak,  and  lo,  all  thy 
dreary  waste  shall  become  a  paradise. 

Ah  !  so  do  we  despair  if  we  look  within  ! 
All  is  dark,  empty,  desolate.  Restless  in  our 
fierce  desires,  haunted  with  a  sense  of  deep 
wants,  what  can  we  do  ?  We  look  away  at 
the  great  lights  above  us.  "  Ah,"  we  sigh 
within  ourselves,  "  if  I  were  only  like  such  a 
one ;  so  good,  so  noble,  so  devoted  !  But 
within  me,  alas,  all  is  so  cold,  so  dark,  so 
empty  !  "  Stay  ;  for  thee,  my  soul,  God  has 
revealed  his  will — his  purpose.  He  comes 
to  put  forth  his  gracious  power  within 
us,  that  we  may  become  complete  and  per- 
fected— made  like  unto  the  Son  of  God  him- 
self. 

In  the  beginning  God — Is  God  with  us? 
Then  where  shall  we  set  the  limits  of  our 
hope?  What  are  the  bounds  of  his  blessing? 
Who   shall    say   to    the    tide    of    his   mercy, 


Meditation  Illustrated.  31 

"Thus  far  and  no  farther?"     Let  our  begin- 
ning begin  with  God. 

Think,  again,  how  this  void  and  formless 
Avorld"  appeals  to  its  Creator.  In  the  begin- 
ning; he  had  created  it,  with  its  vast  capaci- 
ties and  stores  of  minerals  and  wealth. 
Could  he  leave  it  unfinished — without  use  or 
beauty,  a  flaw  in  the  great  universe  ?  Mutely 
it  looked  up  to  heaven,  dumbly  praying, 
almost  upbraiding  the  hand  that  made  it : 
"  Wilt  Thou,  who  hast  begun  to  fashion  me, 
fling  me  off  forlorn,  deserted — a  thing  at  which 
thine  enemies  may  mock,  a  thing  to  beget 
bewildering  doubts  among  the  ver)^  angels — 
as  if  thou  hadst  begun  to  build,  and  wearied 
of  thy  work  or  wert  not  able  to  finish  it  ?  " 

And  so,  my  soul,  canst  thou  appeal  to  God  : 
"  Hast  thou  made  us,  O  thou  all-perfect 
Worker  ?  Hast  thou  made  us  for  thyself,  in 
thine  own  image  and  likeness  ?  And  now,  is 
it  all  to  end  in  this  poor  round  of  eating., 
drinking,  working,  sleeping?  Is  there  noth- 
ing more  for  us  than  this  being  plagued  by 
past  failure,  burdened  with  care,  worried  by 
the  future  ?  Is  there  to  be  no  light,  no  beauty, 
no  gladness  of  life  ?  " 


32         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

So  may  my  want  and  emptiness  plead  with 
God  ;  finding  in  themselves  a  promise,  a 
claim,  a  prophecy  of  what  our  God  is  going  to 
do  for  us.  Only  let  us  give  ourselves  right  up 
to  him,  to  let  him  have  his  own  way  with  us, 
and  then  be  quite  sure  of  this  :  every  kindling 
of  noble  desire,  every  thrill  of  great  possibility, 
every  flow  of  splendid  hope,  every  dream  of 
brave  endurance  and  triumph,  points  on  to 
what  we  shall  be — somehow  and  somewhere. 
All  things  in  heaven,  all  things  on  earth,  all 
the  moments,  and  memories,  and  influences, 
and  hope  within  us,  all  things  work  together 
for  good  to  them  that  love  God,  to  therr>  who 
are  called  according  to  his  purpose ;  for  whom 
he  did  foreknow,  he  also  did  predestinate  to 
be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his  Son. 

And  yet  again  :  In  all  the  processes  of  crea- 
tion God  saw  the  paradise  that  should  be. 

We  think  again  of  the  poor  earth,  amid  all 
\he  fires  that  wrought  about  her  :  the  wild 
winds  that  howled  and  moaned  over  the  lonely 
waste,  as  if  no  eye  watched  them,  no  hand 
could  subdue  them  ;  great  seas  that  swept 
and  thundered  furiously,  like  things  that  none 
could  tame  ;  fierce  fires  that  wrought  within, 


Meditation  Illustrated.  33 

fusing  the  solid  rocks  ;  earthquakes  that  rent 
the  hills,  and  forces  that  flung  up  the  mount- 
ains, a  thousand  giant  hands  that  tore  and  dug 
the  troubled  earth  to  its  very  center.  "  I 
dreamed  of  paradise,"  it  mutters  very  sadly, 
*'  and  instead  of  that  here  is  confusion  only — 
destruction  rampant  every -where.  Better 
surely  that  I  had  slept  on  than  wake  up  to  be 
the  sport  of  all  these  cruel  things — finding  no 
rest  day  or  night." 

But  far  on  God  saw  the  paradise  that  should 
be.  It  stood  out  clear  before  him,  with 
grassy  slope  and  fruitful  grove,  with  flowers 
scenting  all  the  air,  and  happy  songs  of  birds ; 
with  shining  river,  and  the  docile  creatures,  and 
all  things  above  and  below  attesting  that  the 
earth  was  full  of  the  glory  of  God.  Then 
came  the  blessed  Sabbath — God's  rest  and 
earth's. 

Ah  !  the  great  Creator  has  his  forces  still,  of 

pain  and  grief,  of  loss,  of  the  mysteries  of  evil 

and    grim    death.     Fear    not,    my   soul.    He 

directs,  he  controls,  he  shapes.     Only  let  Him 

have  his  own  way  perfectly.     He  sees  where 

all  things  lead.     He  knows  what  they  all  do, 

these  great  forces  of  his,  by  which  he  prepares 
3 


34         So7ne  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

the  new  heaven  and  the  new  earth,  and  those 
who  are  to  dwell  therein. 

Is  there  not  in  this  early  history  of  man  a 
trace  of  sadness,  almost  of  failure  ?  "  It  repent- 
ed the  Lord  that  he  had  made  man.  It  grieved 
him  at  his  heart."  Then,  gradually,  the  shadow 
begins  to  pass  away.  There  comes  in  a 
tone  more  jubilant  and  hopeful,  growing 
steadily  until  it  reaches  that  exultant  out- 
burst, "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  peace  on 
earth,  and  goodwill  toward  men."  Then 
breaks  out  the  enthusiasm  of  humanity,  and 
all  leads  straight  on  and  up  to  the  splendor  of 
the  triumph  and  coronation  of  the  Apoca- 
lypse. Of  course,  with  God  there  is  no  past, 
no  future  ;  yet  it  does  seem  as  if  the  coming 
in  of  the  Son  of  man  brought  tK^is  new  tone 
of  hope.     In  this,  my  soul,  be  ever  glad. 

Amid  all  the  rebellion  and  degradation 
and  failure  of  our  humanity,  there  stands  be- 
fore God  the  finished,  perfect,  proper  man. 
Down  here  the  All-seeing  looks  on  the  stunted, 
dishonored,  ruined  work  of  his  hands ;  here  is 
appalling  sin,  and  greed,  and  cruelty,  and 
miserable  strife,  and  senseless  pride,  and  foul 
lust,  and  horrible  brutality.     But  there,  at  his 


Meditation  Illustrated.  35 

right  hand,  there  stands  the  other  Man — the 
Man  Christ  Jesus — God's  hope  and  satisfac- 
tion. And  thus  ever  before  him  is  the  glorious 
token  and  promise  of  what  our  poor  humanity 
can  be.  There  is  the  pattern  Man,  and  now 
every  force  in  the  world  and  all  the  grace  of 
God  is  at  work  to  shape  us  in  his  glorious 
image  and  likeness.  Therefore,  my  soul,  let 
God  have  his  own  way  with  thee  perfectly, 
exulting  in  this  our  sublime  hope — "  We  shall 
be  like  him  ;  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is." 


36        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 


CHAPTER   III. 

FORGIVENESS. 

THE  THIRTY-SECOND    PSALM. 

"  Blessed  is  he  whose  transgression  is  forgiven,  whose  sin  is 
covered.  Blessed  is  the  man  unto  whom  the  Lord  imputeth 
not  iniquity,  and  in  whose  spirit  there  is  no  guile." 

This  is  the  second  blessed.  Thank  God, 
there  are  two.  The  first  tells  of  the  man  who 
keeps  out  of  sin — "  Blessed  is  the  man  that 
walketh  not  in  the  counsel  of  the  ungodly,  nor 
standeth  in  the  way  of  sinners,  nor  sitteth  in 
the  seat  of  the  scornful."  In  this  the  blessed 
man  stands  up  on  the  sunny  heights,  up  where 
birds  sing  and  the  sweet  scent  of  flowers  fills 
the  air,  and  he  is  looking  down  into  the  black 
bed  of  the  river  ;  over  the  steep  precipices  and 
jagged  rocks,  and  past  black  hollows,  down 
into  the  oozy  river-bed.  He  shudders  as  he 
thinks  of  that  depth  and  peril ;  "  Blessed  is  the 
man  who  is  far  up  above  that,  in  safety  and 
gladness,"  saith   he.     If  there   were   but  one 


Forgiveness.  37 

"  blessed "  then  must  we  despair.  There  is 
another  ;  Hsten  to  the  music :  "  Blessed  is  he 
whose  transgression  is  forgiven,  whose  sin  is 
covered."  This  is  the  other  height  of  the 
river.  He  stands  and  looks  down  into  the 
black  and  dreadful  depth,  "  I  had  gone 
down  there,  down  in  its  peril  ;  but  lo ! 
Thou  hast  taken  me  up  out  of  the  horrible 
pit  and  the  miry  clay,  and  thou  hast  set 
my  feet  upon  a  rock,  and  established  my  go- 
ings, and  thou  hast  put  a  new  song  into 
my  mouth,  even  of  praise  and  thanksgiving." 
These  two  heights  stand  on  either  side  of 
sin  like  the  law  and  the  gospel  ;  Sinai  and 
Calvary. 

My  brother,  if  the  first  blessedness  cannot 
be  ours — the  blessedness  of  those  who  have 
kept  the  law — thank  God,  the  second  may. 
We  may  get  up  there  ;  into  the  sunlight  and 
the  golden  glory  and  the  singing  of  birds. 
This  is  the  whole  meaning  of  the  gospel.  The 
very  heart  and  essence  of  all  that  God  has 
done  for  us  in  the  gift  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
is  this :  to  restore  us  who  have  fallen  to  the 
blessedness  of  this  great  deliverance,  to  the 
joy  of  a  full  salvation. 


38        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

Here  are  three  things  for  us  to  look  at : 

The  man  who  sits  here. 

The  way  he  got  here. 

The  blessedness  he  found  here. 

I.  The  man  who  sits  here.  Those  who  do 
not  know  sometimes  think  this  blessedness  is 
for  good  people  who  have  always  been  good  ; 
people  who  call  themselves  sinners  as  a  matter 
of  course,  because  it  sounds  religious  and  is 
the  proper  thing  to  say,  but  they  really  have 
never  done  any  harm  ;  gentle  and  loving  and 
pure  souls,  who  seem  not  to  be  plagued  with 
ill-tempers  and  foul  sins  like  others  are.  Ah  ! 
look  well  at  this  man.  Why,  his  soul  is  all 
notched  and  scarred  with  the  wounds  of  many 
a  fierce  fight.  He  has  sunk  down  into  the 
black  depths  of  sin  as  very  icw  have  ever 
done.  He  has  sinned  against  light,  and  amid 
opportunities  and  advantages  such  as  very  few 
have  ever  had.  Here  is  a  man  in  whom  sin 
burned  like  a  fire  of  hell  and  set  his  soul  in  a 
blaze ;  a  man  who  to  the  fierceness  of  his  pas- 
sion added  a  cool,  calculating,  cold-blooded, 
murderous  arrangement  for  his  crime  that  ag- 
gravated its  horror  a  thousand  times. 

No  man  this  of  gentle  angel  spirit,  from  whom 


Forgiveness.  39 

you  turn  half-angry  and  half-envious — "  One 
of  your  saints.  He  does  not  know  how  I  feel." 
Here  is  a  man  who  has  gone  down  as  low  into 
sin  as  any  could  go,  and  into  sins  as  black  and 
foul;  and  yet  this  is  he  who  sits  on  this  sunny 
height  and  sings  of  the  blessedness  of  those 
whose  transgressions  are  forgiven,  and  whose 
sin  is  covered.  Blessed  be  God  !  if  this  man 
has  got  there  none  need  despair. 

And  does  somebody  begin  to  think — "Just 
so ;  this  is  one  of  your  dreadful  sinners  whose 
life  has  blinded  him  to  the  horribleness  of  sin, 
and  now,  scarcely  able  to  discern  between 
right  and  wrong,  with  no  standard  above  his 
own  life,  lightly  forgetting  what  has  been,  he 
can  rush  in,  untroubled,  where  angels  fear  to 
tread,  and  boast  aloud  of  all  kinds  of  privileges 
and  possessions?"  No,  indeed.  Come  near 
and  listen  to  him.  He  knows  not  the  sweets 
of  forgiveness  who  has  never  known  a  bitter 
sorrow  for  sin.  See  how  David  heaps  up 
words  to  tell  what  he  thinks  of  it.  It  is  a  trans- 
gression— a  going  out  of  the  way.  It  is  a  sin 
— a  mistake,  a  missing  the  mark.  It  is  iniquity 
— an  injustice,  a  wrong.  It  is  guile — a  cheat- 
ing,   a    lie.     Here  on   the    height  of  forgive- 


40        Sojne  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

ness,  right  under  the  Cross,  he  sees  sin  thus. 
He  looks  back  and  sees  sin  as  a  going  out  of  the 
way.  He  stepped  over  the  boundary ;  it  was 
only  a  step,  he  thought  he  could  easily  come 
back  again  ;  he  would  not  go  far,  only  just  to 
see  what  was  over  there.  So  it  began  and  so 
it  went  on  ;  day  after  day  thoughts  growing 
into  acts,  acts  into  habits,  habits  ever  growing 
stronger. 

Then  some  day  the  man  wakes.  Where 
is  he  ?  Clinging  to  the  face  of  the  preci- 
pice, he  looks  up.  O,  how  different  that 
way  of  the  Lord  appears  now  !  He  used  to 
think  of  it  as  a  restriction,  a  being  too  par- 
ticular. But  now  he  wakes  to  find  innocence 
lost — all  that  might  have  been  left  behind — 
and  the  man  who  was  going  to  be  free  is  the 
helpless  slave  of  his  own  sin.  And  he  cannot 
get  back  ;  cannot  get  up  again.  What  memo- 
ries crowd  about  him  !  Thoughts  in  which' 
God's  way  appears  a  way  of  pleasantness  and 
all  his  paths  as  peace.  O,  the  dewy  freshness 
of  that  life,  the  blessed  safety,  the  bright 
hopes,  the  good  purposes  !  A  man  cannot  go 
far  in  sin  without  finding  that  he  has  gone  out 
of  his  way.     And  he  cannot  get   back  again ; 


Forgiveness.  4 1 

he  cannot  climb  up  ;  and  down  below  there  is 
that  dreadful  darkness  and  destruction. 

So  sin  misses  the  mark.  The  man  thought 
this  way  led  to  happiness.  Ah  !  hell  itself 
seems  to  laugh  out  its  hideous  mockery  at 
him.  Happiness — hanging  here  on  this  giddy 
height,  and  down  there  that  awful  darkness! 

And  here  he  sees  sin  as  an  iniquity,  a  wrong, 
a  robbery.  God  has  created  me,  fitted  and 
fashioned  me  to  know  him,  to  love  him,  to 
serve  him.  Life,  reason,  every  faculty,  the 
air  I  breathe  is  his,  the  light  I  see  by,  the 
earth  I  tread  upon ;  then  has  my  whole  life 
been  a  robbery.  I  have  set  myself — myself, 
who  am  his — to  be  my  own  lord  and  master. 
I  have  used  these  things  as  if  they  were  mine 
— a  wrong  added  to  immensely  by  the  great 
love  of  our  God  toward  us  and  by  his  gener- 
ous purposes  concerning  us.  Sin  is  a  robbery. 
It  is  a  hard  word,  but  it  is  true.  We  rob  God 
of  his  own.  We  rob  the  earth  of  the  good  ex- 
ample and  influence  that  we  were  sent  to  give  it. 
We  rob  God  and  man  of  love  and  truth  and 
of  all  things  blessed.  We  turn  the  very  fac- 
ulties and  gifts  which  he  has  given  into  the 
weapons  with  which  we  sin  against  him.     O, 


42        So)ne  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

sin  is  a  hateful  thing  and  must  have  an  awful 
ending  somewhere  !  Nor  is  this  all.  Sin  is  a 
guile.  It  is  a  cheating,  a  lie.  It  is  not  only 
itself  a  deceiver,  it  is  a  deception. 

And  yet,  thank  God,  this  is  the  man  who 
comes  to  sit  on  this  sunny  height  and  sing  of 
the  blessedness  of  sin  forgiven. 

2.  How  he  got  here. 

He  had  tried  to  get  up  to  this  height  by  the 
wrong  path  and  failed. 

He  had  tried  to  hush  up  and  cover  his  sins. 
I  kept  silence,  he  says.  He  tried  to  put  on  a 
jaunty  indifference,  as  if  it  were  nothing  at  all. 
He  was  no  worse  than  others.  If  there  was 
any  blame  it  was  not  his.  Blame  his  nature  if 
you  will,  in  which  such  fiery  passions  slept — he 
could  not  help  that.  Blame  occasion  and 
temptation  ;  these  were  answerable  for  what 
happened,  not  himself.  But  underneath  that 
silence  his  very  bones  roared.  No,  he  could 
not  get  rid  of  sin  by  denying  it.  There  it  was, 
in  all  its  hideous  nakedness,  standing  out  glar- 
ing in  the  light  of  God.  Memories  met  him 
and  whispered  at  his  ear.  Faces  rose  up  and 
came  near  and  looked  at  him,  dumbly  clamor- 
ing  against    him.     Fingers    pointed    at    him. 


Forgiveness.  43 

Nature  seemed  allied  with  conscience,  and  as 
he  passed  there  came  strange  voices,  looks, 
hints,  whispers,  evil  omens,  as  if  all  the  world 
knew  all  about  it  and  shrank  from  this  dread- 
ful man.  He  knew  within  himself  that  he  was 
another  man,  fallen,  degraded,  as  if  the  Hand 
that  tamed  the  evil  things  within  him  had  been 
taken  off.  Above  him  was  a  God  whom  he 
feared  to  face.  Beneath  him  was  a  blackness 
which  he  shuddered  to  think  of;  for  in  every 
man's  heart  sin  means  hell ;  assuredly  it  can 
mean  nothing  else.  No,  he  could  not  bury 
his  sin  ;  as  in  that  weird  and  tragic  story  in 
which  the  poet  tells  of  the  man  who  tried  to 
bury  his  crime,  but  the  black  pool  would  not 
hide  the  secret,  and  there,  in  the  dried-up 
river-bed,  lay  the  victim.  The  winds  swept 
away  the  leaves  and  flung  the  dead  again  into 
sight.  We  have  no  power  to  undo  the  past  ; 
we  cannot  hush  it  up.  Its  voices  go  on  and 
on,  forever  clamoring  against  us.  We  cannot 
bury  it.  It  rises  and  pursues  us.  This  height 
of  blessedness  cannot  be  reached  by  this  path. 
"  When  I  kept  silence,  my  bones  waxed  old 
through  my  roaring." 

And  yet  you  ask,  perhaps,  Does  sin  always 


44       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

mean  that — anguish,  and  fear,  and  remorse? 
No,  not  always — not  always.  Only  as  long  as 
the  light  of  God  is  within  the  soul  and  the 
voice  of  God  speaks  to  the  man.  That  light 
may  be  put  out.  That  voice  may  be  silenced. 
And  then  the  man  shall  come  to  laugh  a  wild, 
untroubled  laugh  at  these  things.  Right  and 
wrong  have  ceased  to  mean  any  thing.  Love 
is  lust  and  truth  is  but  a  name  ;  and  purity  is 
but  a  hypocrite  who  wears  a  white  robe  ;  and 
friendship  is  only  the  disguise  of  selfishness. 
O,  better  a  thousand  times  the  madness  that 
raves  at  the  memory  of  sin  than  that.  The 
eye  that  sees  the  truth  is  put  out,  the  ear  that 
hears  the  voice  of  God  is  stopped.  Then  the 
soul  can  go  untroubled,  unburdened.  There 
is  a  life  on  earth  so  dark,  so  cold,  so  dead,  so 
unconscious,  so  incapable  of  any  moral  sense 
that  I  would  sooner  crave  the  very  fires  of  hell 
to  create  within  me  some  sense  of  right  and 
wrong  than  sink  into  that  worst  of  deaths,  that 
deepest  of  damnations.  No,  no,  indeed,  that 
path  cannot  lead  up  to  this  blessedness. 

And  now  he  points  out  to  us  the  path  by 
which  he  got  up  here.  "  I  acknowledged  my 
sin  unto  Thee  ;  I  said,  I  will  confess  my  trans- 


Forgiveness.  45 

gressions  unto  the  Lord."  There  was  the 
starting-point,  and  much  more  than  that ;  he 
gave  right  in  to  God.  That  is  every  thing. 
Giving  right  in  ;  throwing  off  all  excuses  and 
honestly  and  earnestly  going  to  God  and  tell- 
ing him  all  about  it,  that  is  the  first  step, 
and  a  long  way  up  toward  this  blessedness. 
Why,  David  had  worn  his  very  religion  as  a 
cloak  to  cover  up  his  sin.  Throughout  one 
dreadful  year  David  came  and  went  to  the 
Temple  services  ;  he  knelt  and  confessed  sin  in 
formal  words  with  the  rest  of  the  congrega- 
tion ;  he  stood  and  saw  the  sacrifice  offered  ; 
he  watched  the  priest  bearing  the  blood  within 
the  veil ;  he  waited  as  the  priest  came  forth 
again  and  spake  the  word  of  absolution  ;  but 
underneath  the  cloak  of  his  religion  he  carried 
the  guilty  secret,  and  all  his  soul  was  parched 
and  consumed  with  a  desert  heat.  No  dew  of 
blessing  fell  on  him,  no  balm  soothed  his 
wounded  spirit.  God  can  do  nothing  with 
us  when  we  come  and  go  thus  before  him. 
We  must  give  right  in.  Have  you  noticed  it 
in  the  story  of  Ahab  ?  There  was  none  like 
Ahab,  saith  the  story,  who  did  sell  himself 
to  commit  wickedness.     But  frightened  once 


46         SojHc   Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

by  the  threatening  of  the  Lord,  alarmed  by 
the  tone  and  manner  of  the  prophet  of  fire,  he 
put  on  sackcloth  and  went  in  before  the  Lord 
and  walked  humbly.  Swift  and  glad  then 
came  the  words  from  the  Lord  :  "  Seest  thou 
how  Ahab  humbleth  himself?  The  evil  shall 
not  come  in  his  time."  When  we  cast  away 
excuses,  explanations,  apologies,  falling  at  his 
feet  with  the  cry,  "  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven  and  in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more 
worthy  to  be  called  thy  son,"  then  God,  our 
gracious  and  loving  Father,  can  let  the  full- 
ness of  his  love  flow  forth  to  us ;  then  he  can 
fall  upon  the  neck  and  bring  us  home  with 
rejoicing  ;  then  all  the  great  preparation  and 
provision  of  his  mercy  is  our  own. 

This  is  more  than  the  first  step ;  it  is  every 
thing.  If  we  thus  give  in  to  God  he  will 
teach  us  and  lead  us  in  the  way  we  should  go. 
He  will  unfold  to  us  the  mystery  of  repent- 
ance. He  will  lift  up  the  hand  of  our  faith. 
He  will  reveal  to  us  the  great  love  of  Calvary. 
He  will  bring  us  up  to  this  height  of  blessed- 
ness until  we  too  sit  and  sing  in  adoring  won- 
der and  joy,  compassed  about  with  songs  of 
deliverance. 


Forgivoicss.  47 

3.  Let  us  see  what  else  David  found  here 
besides  forgiveness.  The  psalm  does  not  end 
with  singing  about  forgiveness  ;  there  is  a  very- 
different  strain,  and  a  very  different  subject, 
immediately  and  almost  abruptly  introduced. 

But,  note  well,  the  psalm  does  begin  with 
forgiveness.  Whatever  else  there  may  be  for 
us  it  begins  with  that ;  in  knowing  that  our 
transgression  is  forgiven  and  our  sin  is  cov- 
ered, and  in  knowing  it  with  such  a  knowl- 
edge that  we  can  sing  of  it  with  a  triumphant 
joy.  We  must  know  that  as  surely  as  David 
did.  You  and  I  stand  looking  out  into  eter- 
nity with  its  great  realities — the  glories  of 
heaven  and  the  dreadful  mystery  of  hell.  In 
matters  like  this  we  must  have  more  than  an 
uncertain  hope.  I  am  not  sure  that  God  has 
given  me  any  thing  until  I  am  quite  sure  that 
God  has,  for  Christ's  sake,  forgiven  my  sin. 
Whatever  else  God  may  have  for  us  must  be- 
gin with  that — a  conscious  forgiveness.  And 
if  David  found  this  in  the  twilight  of  his  time 
I  may  be  sure  of  finding  it  in  the  blaze  of  Gos- 
pel noon.  Come  boldly  and  ask  for  it.  Tell 
God  that  you  cannot  live  without  it.  This 
blessedness   is   no  vasfue  thought :  no  logical 


48         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

conclusion  ;  no  inference  ;  it  is  a  blessed  per- 
suasion, wrought  in  the  heart  by  the  Holy- 
Ghost  given  unto  us,  that  the  Son  of  God  loved 
me  and  gave  himself  for  me.  It  is  the  spirit 
of  adoption,  whereby  we  cry,  Abba,  Father. 
It  is  the  revelation  of  the  loving  Father  to  the 
hearts  of  his  children. 

And  notice,  again,  that  whatever  else  David 
found  here  he  makes  very  much  of  for- 
giveness. Do  not  let  us  ever  come  to  think 
of  forgiveness  as  a  little  or  a  light  thing. 
Think  what  it  means — the  infinite  sacrifice  on 
the  part  of  our  Father,  God,  the  gift  of  his 
Son,  his  only  Son,  the  well-beloved.  Think 
how  it  comes  to  us  at  no  less  a  cost  than  the 
shame  and  agony  and  dreadful  curse  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour.  It  is  ever  God's  unspeak- 
able gift — such  a  declaration  of  love,  of  conde- 
scension, of  suffering,  of  deliverance,  as  must 
always  amaze  and  overwhelm  us. 

But  though  David  begins  with  forgiveness, 
and  makes  very  much  of  it,  yet  he  does  not 
end  there.  We  may  avail  ourselves  of  this 
selah  at  the  end  of  his  song  about  forgiveness. 
It  means,  "  Let  us  meditate  here  ;  be  still 
and   think    of  these    things."     And    there    is 


Forgiveness.  49 

room  for  meditation.  It  seems  as  if  we  are 
such  poor,  foolish,  dim-eyed  creatures  that 
giving  prominence  to  any  truth,  howev^er 
important,  is  apt  to  hide  from  us  other  truths, 
and  so  we  run  into  mistake.  This  grand  and 
glorious  doctrine  of  forgiveness — conscious, 
assured,  triumphant  forgiveness  —  which  can- 
not be  made  too  prominent,  even  it  is  apt  to 
mislead  unless  we  put  a  selah  here.  We  must 
look  into  the  truth  carefully  and  look  around 
it  circumspectly.  Young  people,  perhaps 
especially,  hearing  this  doctrine  of  conversion 
insisted  upon  so  often,  are  apt  to  think  of  it 
as  such  a  mighty  change  that,  even  though 
they  love  and  trust  and  serve  Christ,  yet  they 
scarcely  dare  think  of  themselves  as  converted. 
Most  certainly  this  is  no  reason  why  it  should 
not  be  preached  with  the  utmost  plainness  and 
urgency,  but  it  is  a  reason  w^hy  we  should  guard 
this  point.  Salvation  is  in  Him  ;  not  in  convul- 
sions or  earthquake ;  not  in  terror  or  agonies  ; 
not  in  swift  and  tremendous  transformations. 
We  have  only  to  come  to  Christ  and  let  him 
save  us  in  his  own  way.  Forgiveness  is  at  the 
foot  of  His  cross.  Never  mind  how  you  were 
brought  there — that  is  his  work,  not  yours. 


50         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

Then,  again,  this  insistance  upon  forgiveness 
is  apt  to  make  others  think  that  it  is  every 
thing ;  that  when  they  have  found  that  they 
have  found  all  that  there  is  ;  there  is  nothing 
else  left  to  think  about  or  to  desire.  So  is  it 
that  there  are  not  a  few  who  seem  to  make 
their  whole  religious  life  only  a  memory  of  their 
conversion  ;  that  silenced  every  fear,  that 
entitled  them  to  every  hope.  Instead  of  liv- 
ing right  out  from  that  point  the  great,  full, 
wealthy  life  of  God,  they  are  just  content  to 
draw  a  small  percentage  of  peace  and  comfort 
from  the  recollection  of  their  conversion. 
Beware  of  this  mistake.  Forgiveness  is  but 
the  entrance-gate  to  the  height  and  depth  of 
blessedness  that  waits  for  us.  We  are  not  to 
sit  in  the  porch,  lame  and  begging ;  we  are  to 
get  up  in  Christ's  name  and  go  on,  leaping 
and  praising  God,  right  into  the  holy  temple. 

Then  there  are  others  who,  hearing  so  much 
and  so  often  of  forgiveness,  think  they  must 
come  to  God  for  that,  and  having  that  they 
must  get  on  as  well  as  they  can,  striving  in 
their  own  strength  to  be  as  holy  as  they  can. 
In  this  sense  of  it  there  is  no  such  word  as  try 
in  the  Bible.     God  takes  hold  of  our  try  and 


Forgiveness.  5 1 

makes  it  trust.  Forgiveness  is  the  begin- 
ning of  a  life  of  faith,  and  it  is  faith  right 
on,  step  by  step,  and  right  up  to  the  very 
end. 

And  yet  again,  there  are  others  with  whom 
forgiveness  means  feeHng  happy.  It  is  theirs 
if  they  can  sing  aloud,  but  it  dies  with  the 
music.  If  they  hear  a  sermon  that  stirs  the 
soul  and  glows  within  them,  then  they  think 
they  are  saved  ;  but  when  to-morrow's  dull- 
ness comes  they  droop  and  fear.  This  is  to  turn 
things  exactly  upside  down.  David  felt  happy 
because  he  was  forgiven,  but  he  was  not  for- 
given because  he  felt  happy.  Here  now  the 
singing  is  hushed,  but  his  forgiveness  has  not 
passed  away  with  the  song.  Joy  is  the 
flower  and  fruit  of  faith,  but  faith  is  not  dead 
because  the  flower  falls  off  sometimes ;  joy,  of 
necessity,  wears  itself  away,  and  the  springs 
of  its  renewal  are  not  in  us  but  in  Christ,  and 
we  must  go  out  of  ourselves  to  find  them. 

Now  in  his  stillness,  as  David  sits  on  the 
Mount  of  Blessedness,  let  us  try  to  get  at  his 
thoughts.  It  is  only  when  we  have  tasted  the 
sweets  of  forgiveness,  only  when  we  have  seen 
the  great  fullness  of  the  love  of  God,  that  the 


52        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

deeper  springs  of  repentance  are  unsealed 
within  us.  With  eyes  purged  and  a  heart 
made  tender  we  see  then  what  sin  means — 
what  a  dreadful  reality  it  is.  With  every 
faculty  touched  and  thrilled  with  the  con- 
sciousness of  God's  great  love  to  him  David 
turns  to  think  of  himself.  He  recalls  the  pas- 
sions that  sleep  within  him — the  dreadful  pos- 
sibilities of  evil,  so  fierce,  so  revengeful.  He 
thinks  of  the  temptations  that  beset  him — the 
strength  of  the  world,  the  weakness  of  the 
flesh,  the  craft  of  the  devil — and  there  sweeps 
over  him  a  horror  more  black  and  dreadful 
than  any  hell.  "  O !  can  I  ever  come  to 
grieve  that  love  again  !  " 

Well  may  he  be  hushed.  And  all  his  soul 
goes  out  in  great  longing  for  something  more 
than  forgiveness.  He,  with  his  passionate 
nature  melted  by  the  goodness  of  God,  feels 
that  the  very  gift  of  his  forgiveness  has 
brought  another,  deeper  want — a  want  that 
every  forgiven  heart  must  know.  "  I  want,  O 
my  God,  never,  never,  never  to  grieve  thee 
again.  And  yet  I  am  weakness  itself,  and  all 
my  way  is  full  of  hinderances  !  " 

And  again  he  sits  in  silence  and  looks  forth 


Forgiveness.  53 

from  the  height  of  blessedness  upon  the  way 
of  his  hfe.  With  tearful  eyes  he  traces  it  and 
sees  now  that  it  has  all  been  a  transgression,  a 
going  out  of  the  way,  a  constant  wandering. 
He  had  cried,  ''  Restore  unto  me  the  joy  of 
Thy  salvation,  then  will  I  teach  transgressors 
thy  ways."  But  now,  ignorant,  foolish, 
crushed  by  the  blunders  and  mistakes  of  life, 
he  is  smitten  through  and  through  with  a 
sense  of  helplessness,  and  he  feels  only 
how  much  he  himself  needs  to  be  taught. 
How  can  he  go  forth  again  ?  He  is  afraid  to 
step  lest  he  should  go  astray  ;  so  impulsive, 
so  rash,  so  swept  away  by  the  feeling  of  the 
moment,  with  temptations  that  surge  and 
storm  about  him. 

Then  he  lifts  up  those  eyes  of  his  and  sighs 
from  the  overfull  heart,  "  I  want  more  than 
forgiveness,  Lord  ;  forgiveness  is  a  gift  I  can- 
not keep.  I  want  deliverance,  guidance, 
teaching,  help,  every  thing  !  " 

And  then  God  bends  over  him  tenderly  and 
speaks  with  an  infinite  love — "  Child,  thou  dost 
want  Me,  and  I  will  never  leave  thee.  I  will 
instruct  thee  and  teach  thee  in  the  way  thou 
shalt  go ;  I  will  guide  thee  with  mine  eye." 


54         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

There,  that  is  where  forgiveness  brings  us  ; 
into  his  presence,  into  such  close  intimacy, 
into  such  heart-communion  with  him.  The 
great  Jehovah,  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth, 
comes  to  us  in  gracious  compassion  as  our 
helper  and  friend,  our  teacher  and  guide. 
The  Cross  of  Christ  is  at  the  threshold  of  his 
banqueting  chamber,  whither  he  bringeth  us, 
and  his  banner  over  us  is  love.  Here  we  enter 
into  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High  and 
abide  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty. 

Until  then  God  is  either  afar  off — a  mere 
catechism  definition,  a  logical  necessity  as  the 
great  First  Cause  of  all  things — or  else  he  is 
the  dreadful  Judge  against  whom  we  have 
sinned.  But  now,  in  this  height  of  forgive- 
ness, he  himself  cometh  to  us ;  he  speaks  to 
us  ;  he  holds  us  dear  to  himself,  and  we  look 
up  with  a  new,  glad  confidence,  and  cry. 
Father  !  This  is  the  sweetest  joy,  the  fullest 
blessedness,  the  richest  privilege  that  waits 
for  us  on  the  Mount  of  Forgiveness — this 
heart-communion  with  God.  And  this  is  the 
purpose  of  our  forgiveness.  We,  who  were 
sometime  afar  off,  are  made  nigh  by  the  blood 
of  Christ,  that  we  may  become  the  household 


Forgiveness.  55 

of  God.  Christ  has  redeemed  us  from  the 
curse  of  the  law  that  the  bliss  of  paradise  may 
be  ours,  as  God  walks  and  talks  with  his  child. 

So  may  I  go  forth  hand  in  hand  with  God  ; 
my  weakness  lost  in  his  might,  my  ignorance 
swallowed  up  in  his  wisdom  ;  no  more  lonely, 
no  more  unguided,  no  more  wandering,  but 
every-where  God  himself  as  my  helper  and 
friend.  I  can  hold  His  hand  and  look  out 
triumphantly  over  all  the  way.  I  can  cling  at 
his  side,  and  defy  all  foes.  I  can  go  now  into 
the  trackless  wilderness  or  through  the  murky 
night.  I  will  instruct  thee  and  teach  thee, 
saith  he.  No  want  now,  no  weakness,  but  he 
is  with  me  to  supply  my  need.  No  pleasure 
but  it  finds  a  new  joy  in  his  presence;  no 
gain  but  it  has  a  fuller  worth  in  its  consecra- 
tion to  him.  This  is  the  glorious  revelation 
of  Calvary  :  the  Father  himself  loveth  you. 

"  I  will  guide  thee  with  mine  eye."  Think 
what  gracious  familiarity  with  him  this  implies  ; 
what  watchfulness  and  gentle  teachableness 
he  shall  give.  I  can  guide  him  who  is  afar  off 
by  my  hand  ;  I  can  guide  him  who  is  in  dark- 
ness by  my  voice.  But  the  promise  is,  "  I  will 
guide  thee  with  mine  eye  ;  "  then   must  I  be 


56         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

near  him,  ever  looking  up  ;  then  must  I  walk 
in  the  light,  as  he  is  in  the  light,  and  my  fel- 
lowship must  be  with  the  Father  and  with  his 
Son  Jesus  Christ.  Be  not  as  the  horse  or  the 
mule  ;  bit  and  bridle  must  control  and  guide 
them.  Pray  God  to  take  the  stubbornness  and 
prejudice  out  of  us ;  pray  God  to  take  away 
the  dull  ear  and  the  heavy  eye,  the  slow  per- 
ception and  the  sluggish  consciousness.  We 
want  a  heart  that  feels  the  hint  of  His  desire, 
that  vibrates  at  the  breath  of  his  bidding,  that 
starts  in  glad  obedience  at  the  whisper  of  his 
will.  The  crowning  glory  of  the  height  of 
forgiveness  is  more  than  deliverance.  We 
learn  a  sweeter  music  and  a  deeper  joy  even 
than  that  mighty  revelation  of  the  Father.  It 
is  this  union  and  communion  with  him,  this 
tender  susceptibility  to  his  will,  this  bliss  of 
his  presence,  this  joy  of  his  guidance — all  the 
heaven  of  a  pure  love  to  him,  a  childlike  trust, 
a  glad  obedience. 

I  And  this  new  life  is  strong,  and  blessed,  and 
triumphant,  as  we  let  the  divine  presence 
come  into  us.  The  forgiven  man  has  no  more 
strength  in  himself  than  he  had  before  ;  his 
strength    is   in    God.     Fling    open    wide    the 


Forgiveness.  57 

thoughts,  and  let  him  fill  the  soul.  "  Lift  up 
your  heads,  O  ye  gates ;  and  be  ye  lift  up,  ye 
everlasting  doors  ;  and  the  King  of  Glory  shall 
come  in." 

Do  not  tarry  singing  of  forgiveness  only  ;  go 
on  to  find  the  blessed  life  in  this  glorious 
presence  of  thy  Father,  God. 


58         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE     BLOOD     OF     CHRIST     IN    RELATION     TO 
THE   BLESSED   LIFE. 

A  GREAT  writer,  one  of  the  foremost  of  the 
day,  has  declared  that  the  world  has  done 
with  a  God  who  must  be  approached  through 
blood.  All  of  us  are  apt  to  judge  "  the  world  " 
by  the  little  bit  of  it  with  which  each  comes 
into  contact.  Fortunately  it  does  not  need  vast 
intellectual  ability  in  order  to  qualify  an 
opinion  on  this  matter.  We  all  of  us  have 
some  degree  of  experience  and  observation  ; 
and  to  many  it  is  not  a  matter  of  argument, 
but  of  a  blessed  confidence,  that  never  in  any 
age  were  so  many  finding  a  conscious  forgive- 
ness through  Him  in  whom  we  have  redemp- 
tion through  his  blood.  Never  before  were  so 
many  walking  in  the  light,  and  having  fellow- 
ship one  with  another,  and  proving  that  the 
blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  His  Son,  cleanseth  from 
all  sin.    This  God,  "  who  must  be  approached 


The  Blood  of  Christ.  59 

through  blood,"  is  our  own  gracious  and  lov- 
ing Father.  We  are  not  thrust  from  Him  by 
this  way  of  access,  but  by  it  we  who  were 
sometime  afar  off  are  made  nigh. 

Yet  while  this  way  of  approach  is  to  us  a 
way  of  peace,  the  ground  of  our  hope,  the 
great  voice  of  love  itself,  to  others  this  "  ap- 
proach through  blood "  is  not  only  a  stum- 
bling-block; it  is  more  than  that  :  it  is  an  idea 
shocking  and  revolting ;  it  sends  them  away 
from  God  as  a  grim  and  dreadful  Being  of 
whom  they  do  not  care  to  think.  It  is  well 
for  us  to  look  boldly  and  earnestly  into  a  doc- 
trine which  to  us  is  everything,  and  yet  which 
is  capable  of  being  so  easily  turned  into  a  very 
coarse  and  hideous  objection  against  the  truth. 
Honestly  and  fearlessly  let  us  look  into  it,  as 
those  who  know  in  whom  we  have  believed 
and  are  persuaded  that  there  is  in  him  nothing 
which  can  be  contrary  to  perfect  love. 

It  may  perhaps  be  well  to  remind  ourselves 
that  in  this  matter,  as  perhaps  in  some  others, 
the  figurative  and  somewhat  exaggerated  lan- 
guage of  hymns  has  much  to  answer  for  in 
creating  a  prejudice.  But  surely,  if  anywhere 
we  may  demand  "  a  poetical  license  "   in  the 


6o         Soffte  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

use 'of  words,  it  is  in  a  case  where  they  are  the 
expression  not  only  of  a  fervent  imagination, 
but  also  of  a  great  deliverance.  Feelings  that 
fill  the  soul  with  rapture  burst  the  little 
phrases  of  a  cruel  precision,  and  can  only  find 
room  in  large  utterances  and  figures  which  the 
cold  literalist  turns  from  contemptuously.  To 
the  literalist  who  pulls  to  pieces  such  words 
as  these  there  is  something  very  revolting  in, 

"  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood 

Drawn  from  Immanuel's  veins  ; 
And  sinners,  plunged  beneath  that  flood, 

Lose  all  their  guilty  stains." 

And  again  in  the  familiar  words, 

"  Sink  into  the  purple  flood  ; 
Rise  into  the  life  of  God  !  " 

We  are  not  going  to  bid  these  happy  souls 
hold  their  peace  because  some  stand  by  coldly 
criticising  their  songs.  There  are  words  that 
are  to  be  interpreted  only  by  the  feelings  that 
underlie  them.  Yet  it  is  needful  that  the 
Scriptures  be  held  responsible  for  the  spirit 
only,  and  not  for  the  figure  of  such  hymns. 

With  this  single  explanation,  rather  than 
apology,  we  have  nothing  else  that  need  keep 


The  Blood  of  Christ.  6i 

us  from  looking  fully  into  the  doctrine  of  the 
blood. 

"  Ye  are  come,"  says  the  writer  of  the  Epistle 
to  the  Hebrews,  "  to  Jesus  the  mediator  of  a 
new  covenant,  and  to  the  blood  of  sprinkling, 
that  speaketh  better  things  than  that  of  Abel." 
The  blood  that  speaketh.  It  seems  first,  per- 
haps, a  strange,  almost  dreadful  thing  to  say  of 
Jesus.  We  know  that  blood  has  a  voice  ;  we 
know  how  whole  families  and  clans  and  coun- 
tries have  been  moved  by  it ;  how  the  land 
has  been  stirred  and  thrilled  by  it ;  how  men 
have  been  gathered  by  it — resolute,  unsparing, 
knit  together  and  fired  by  that  voice  of  blood. 
But  it  is  a  voice  that  cries  only  for  jealousy, 
revenge,  death.  The  word  "  blood  "  offends 
us  ;  the  sight  of  it  shocks  us. 

How,  then,  can  this  ever  come  to  be  the 
voice  by  which  God  speaks  to  us — he  who  is 
love  ?  How  can  this  ever  be  the  voice  by 
which  w^e  speak  to  God,  who  is  our  gracious 
and  loving  Father?  Why  should  this  be  the 
voice  that  is  heard  throughout  all  worlds,  and 
which  goes  sounding  through  all  the  ages: 
the  voice  of  the  blood  of  sprinkling? 

The  voice  is  set  here  in  contrast  with  "  that 


62  Some  Aspect  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

of  Abel."  The  story  of  Abel  may  help  us, 
perhaps,  to  hear  and  to  understand  this 
strange  and  mighty  voice  of  "  the  blood  that 
speaketh." 

Let  us  listen  to  the  voice  of  Cain's  offering. 
In  process  of  time  it  came  to  pass  that  Cain 
brought  an  offering  of  the  fruit  of  the  ground 
unto  the  Lord.  He  brought  flowers  and  fruits 
and  roots.  Here  is  a  voice  that  God  can 
listen  to  and  delight  in.  What  else  could  be 
so  acceptable  to  God  ?  What  has  earth  so  fair 
and  beautiful  ?  Of  all  voices,  softest  and 
sweetest,  surely,  is  the  voice  of  this  offering. 
Fair  forms  and  rich  colors  blend  in  perfect 
beauty.  Flowers  and  trailing  leaves,  and  ivy 
sprays  and  fronds  of  fern,  all  bright  with  the 
dew  of  God's  own  blessing,  fresh  from  his  own 
hand,  breathing  sweet  fragrance  as  incense  for 
his  service — what  else  could  be  so  fitting  for 
God's  altar?  Here  is  no  hint  of  suffering; 
here  is  no  dreadful  tale  of  cruelty  and  blood- 
shed ;  here,  of  all  things,  are  those  which  the 
curse  hath  touched  most  lightly,  and  in  Eden 
itself  the  rose  and  lily  could  scarcely  have  been 
lovelier.  Here  is  no  stain  of  passion,  no  touch 
of  sin,  no   whisper    of   sorrow.     What    fairer 


The  Blood  of  Christ.  '  63 

gift  could  God  desire?  What  sweeter  gift 
could  earth  afford? 

And  listen  to  the  message  which  the  voice 
of  this  offering  spake  from  God  to  Cain. 
"See,"  they  sang,  "how  God  hath  decked  us 
in  beauty.  He  who  hath  set  his  great  sun  in 
the  heavens,  and  who  holdeth  up  the  pillars  of 
the  earth,  hath  shaped  us,  stem  and  leaf  and  bud 
and  flower.  He  paints  these  colors  ;  he  breathes 
this  fragrance  ;  he  giveth  not  bread  alone,  but 
thus  he  decks  the  earth  with  gladness.  See 
in  us  the  perfection  of  his  power  and  skill. 
He  hath  so  fitted  sunshine  and  season,  earth 
and  seed,  light  and  air  and  rain,  he  hath 
balanced  all  so  delicately  that  these  mighty 
forces  meet  in  us  and  greet  thee,  Cain." 

And  Cain  heard  the  voice,  and  laid  them  on 
the  altar  of  God,  and  they  became  in  turn  a 
voice  that  spoke  from  him  to  God  :  "  O 
great  Creator,  here  behold  my  gift !  In  these 
I  confess  my  dependence  upon  thy  bounty. 
I  accept  and  adore  thy  goodness,  thy  power, 
thy  wisdom.  I  bow  and  bless  thy  name,  and 
thus  show  forth  my  gratitude  to  Thee." 

And  Abel  brought  of  the  firstlings  of  his 
flock.     A  lamb,  the  emblem  of  gentleness  and 


64         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

purity.  But  there  is  here  a  constraint  and  fear 
that  were  altogether  wanting  in  Cain's  offer- 
ing :  separated  from  the  flock,  led  and  bound 
to  the  altar,  in  no  way  has  it  the  beauty  and  at- 
tractiveness of  the  other  gift.  This,  too,  was 
a  voice  that  spake  to  Abel  of  God's  goodness 
and  care  ;  of  power  and  wisdom  and  provi- 
dence ;  of  gracious  and  bountiful  provision. 
And  in  this  Abel  found  a  voice  that  told  of  his 
dependence  upon  God  and  of  his  gratitude. 

And  now  if  dependence  and  gratitude  make 
up  religion  let  each  go  down  to  his  house 
justified.  The  service  is  over ;  each  has 
worshiped  and  each  has  done  well.  But  see ! 
Abel  lays  his  hand  roughly  on  the  struggling 
lamb.  It  is  slain.  The  blood  reddens  the 
altar.  The  torn  and  bleeding  victim  lies  upon 
the  altar  of  God.  Here  is  another  voice — so 
sad,  so  terrible — the  voice  of  blood  !  Cain's 
gift  was  beautiful.  This  is  loathsome  and 
dreadful ;  every  thing  within  us  shrinks  from 
it.  What  can  this  say  from  Abel  to  God — 
God  the  Creator,  merciful  and  gracious,  who 
careth  tenderly  for  all  that  his  hands  have 
made?  To  him  every  sight  of  suffering  is  a 
pain  and  grief. 


The  Blood  of  Christ.  65 

Yet  look  again.  Cain  and  his  offering  are 
rejected  ;  his  fair  gift  is  in  vain.  And  Abel  is 
accepted  ;  his  bleeding  gift  avails.  Over  him 
there  comes  the  sunny  smile  of  God's  favor, 
and  he  has  the  testimony  that  God  is  well 
pleased. 

What  does  it  mean  ?     Is  God,  as  some  have 

dared  to  say,  a  fierce  and  dreadful  being  who 

can  only  be  approached  with  sights  of  cruelty 

and  suffering  and  death  ?     What  can  it  mean? 

Let  us  ask  the  question,  seeking  to  get  in  at 

the  truth  for  ourselves.     We  cannot  afford  to 

trust  traditions,  to  merely  inherit  our  beliefs. 

We  dare  not  drift  along  in  vague  dependence 

upon  other  people's  opinions.     Still  less  can  we 

afford  to  keep  dark  thoughts  locked  up  within 

us  that  we  are  afraid  to  face — thoughts  that 

haunt  the  lonely  places  of  the  soul  and  mutter 

things  that  burden  with  fear  and  horror.    Better 

no  God   at  all    than  a  God   whom  we  cannot 

trust  utterly,  through   and  through,  in   deed 

and  in  every  thing.     I  must  have  in  God  one 

whom  I  can  love  perfectly,  in  whom  heart  and 

mind  and  soul  and  strength  can  rest  with  a 

perfect  satisfaction.     Here,  indeed,  "  the  want 

of  faith  in  aught  is  want  of  faith  in  all." 
6 


66         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

But  turn  to  the  brothers  again.  Here  Cain 
comes  in  haste.  His  face  is  filled  with  rage; 
the  dark  brows  knit  in  fierce  anger;  his  eyes 
shooting  lightnings;  his  lips  bitten,  or  loosed 
only  to  mutter  dreadful  things.  His  hands 
are  stained  with  blood,  and  blood  bespatters 
his  dress.  And  there,  lying  stretched  on 
the  ground,  is  Abel  dead  ;  murdered.  "  Cain 
rose  up  against  Abel  his  brother,  and  slew 
him." 

What  now  if  Cain  should  come  again,  and 
with  these  stained  fingers  set  up  the  dainty 
blossoms,  and  array  the  green  leaves,  and  deck 
the  altar  with  the  fruits  ?  What  now  if  he 
should  stand  listening  to  the  sweet  voice  of 
these  fair  flowers,  telling  of  goodness  and  wis- 
dom and  skill?  What  now  if  in  these  things 
such  an  one  should  seek  a  voice  to  utter  quietly 
his  dependence  on  God  and  his  gratitude  to 
him  ?  Every  thing  within  us  would  be  angry 
and  indignant  at  such  a  sight.  What  has  a 
wretch  like  this  to  do  with  flowers  and  fruit  ? 
Why,  those  hands  would  wither  them.  His 
touch  would  defile  them.  Flowers  and  fruit ! 
No ;  earth  shall  yield  him  no  more.  Beneath 
his  footsteps  the  very  grass  shall  wither,  leav- 


The  Blood  of  Clir'ist,  6y 

ing  a  scarred  and  barren  track  where  he  has 
trodden.  His  very  shadow  shall  blight  all 
things  sweet  and  beautiful.  He  is  a  murderer  ; 
and  if  ever  this  man  speak  to  God,  and  if  ever 
God  speak  to  him,  it  must  be  with  another  and 
very  different  voice  from  these.  Ask  yourself 
what  voice  can  say  to  him  what  he  ought  to 
hear.  The  voice  must  be  the  voice  of  thunder  ; 
of  earthquake ;  fierce  fires.  These  are  the 
voices  for  such  an  one :  voices  of  destruction  ; 
voices  of  terror;  voices  of  justice  and  venge- 
ance. There  is  yet  another  voice,  stern  and 
dreadful ;  a  voice  that  can  speak  to  this  man  of 
God's  most  holy  law ;  that  can  make  him  see 
that  his  merit  is  death  ;  a  voice  that  can  fill 
him  with  shame  and  sorrow  and  heart-broken 
penitence.  And  yet  a  voice  that  may  tell  of 
love  even  for  him ;  a  voice  in  which  hope 
and  mercy  may  speak,  too.  It  is  the  voice  of 
blood. 

But  go  back  again  to  the  moment  when 
Cain  stood  at  the  altar  bringing  the  first-fruits 
of  the  earth.  In  him  then  were  all  these 
dreadful  possibilities  of  evil.  In  our  sight  sin 
is  an  act,  but  in  God's  sight  it  is  a  condition. 
While  he    stood    there    worshiping   God   saw 


68         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

the  passion  that  slept  in  his  heart,  the  mur- 
derous envy  that  lay  coiled  like  a  sleeping 
serpent.  God  looked  right  in  upon  these  foul 
and  awful  things.  How,  then,  could  God  speak 
to  him  or  he  to  God  with  the  voice  of  things 
sweet  and  fair  like  the  flowers  and  fruit  ? 

And  so  God  looks  upon  us.  Within  us  he 
sees  our  sin,  an  awful  fact ;  the  black  source  of 
a  thousand  evil  things.  Our  sin  rises  up  like 
that  dead  Abel  and  thrusts  us  back  from  God. 
Ah  !  we  need  another  voice  than  that  of  flowers 
and  fruit  ;  their  beauty  is  mocked  by  the  foul- 
ness which  he  sees  within  us.  Our  hot  hands 
wither  them  ;  our  touch  defiles  them.  And 
now  there  faces  us  this  great  question  :  What 
can  God  do  with  our  sin  ? 

Can  he  hush  it  up  and  make  light  of  it  ? 
That  is  to  imperil  all  things.  He  is  holy. 
The  very  strength  of  his  love  is  holiness. 
There  is  no  controversy  in  God.  His  holi- 
ness is  not  arrayed  against  his  mercy  nor  his 
mercy  against  his  holiness.  His  love  is  always 
holy.  His  holiness  is  always  love.  But  what 
can  holy  love  do  with  sin  ?  A  love  that  could 
pass  over  sin  would  cease  at  once  to  be  love. 
We  could   not   trust    it,  could  not   honor  it, 


The  Dlood  of  Christ.  69 

could  not  care  to  accept  it.  We  should  feel  that 
there  was  a  crack  and  flaw  right  down  through 
the  very  foundation  of  the  universe,  which 
some  day  would  hurl  all  things  into  a  black 
and  awful  ruin.  What,  then,  can  God  do  with 
sin,  unless  he  lets  it  work  out  its  own  natural 
and  dreadful  end — death  ? 

If  ever  we  who  have  sinned  are  to  speak  to 
God,  if  ever  God,  against  \\hom  we  have 
sinned,  is  to  speak  to  us,  do  we  not  feel  that  it 
must  be  in  some  way  that  shall  make  us  see 
and  feel  the  great  righteousness  against  which 
we  have  sinned,  and  yet  in  which  we  may  hear 
the  tones  of  his  great  love ;  a  voice  that  shall 
lead  us  to  a  true  submission  and  penitence, 
and  yet  which  can  proclaim  the  law  satis- 
fied ;  a  voice  that  shall  speak  the  past  for- 
given, and  yet  in  that  forgiveness  reveals  a 
power  and  motive  that  helps  us  against  sin  for 
the  future  ? 

This  is  the  voice  of  blood. 

We  hear  all  this  faintly  but  unmistakably  in 
the  voice  of  Abel's  offering:  "  Thou  art  holy, 
O  God  !  Here  I  acknowledge  thy  righteous- 
ness. I  have  sinned  against  Thy  holiness. 
Here  I  confess  my  sin,    and  here  with  peni- 


70        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

tence  I  acknowledge  my  merit  is  death. 
Here  I  accept  thy  great  love,  which  has  pro- 
vided one  in  whom  the  world  is  to  find  salva- 
tion. Thus  do  I  declare  my  faith  in  Him,  the 
'  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of 
the  world.'  And  here,  in  thy  forgiveness  and 
gracious  acceptance,  I  acknowledge  thy  claim 
upon  my  love  and  service,  and  I  find  a 
strength  to  do  thy  holy  will." 

Once  more,  in  the  light  of  that  sacrifice,  let 
us  ask  ourselves  :  What  can  God  do  with  our 
sin?  That  is  the  only  answer.  And  let  us 
go  on  to  ask  three  other  questions  which  stare 
the  ages  in  the  face  as  the  great  problems  of 
all  time. 

How  can  w^e  see  our  sin  in  the  light  of  God's 
holiness  and  not  for  ever  despair? 

Or,  if  forgiven,  how  can  we  find  forgiveness 
of  our  sin  without  coming  to  think  carelessly 
of  that  which  is  so  easily  forgiven  ? 

Or  yet,  again,  if  making  much  of  our  for- 
giveness, how  can  we  ever  come  to  find  our- 
selves living  righteously  without  falling  into 
that  consciousness  of  our  superiority  which  is 
the  root  of  all  Phariseeism  ?  To  these  three 
questions  is  there  any  other  answer  than  this : 


The  Blood  of  Christ.  71 

Through  the  blood  of  sprinkling,  that  speak- 
eth  better  things  than  that  of  Abel? 

Here  we  may  find  the  reason  why  so  many 
do  not  find  in  religion  the  satisfaction  that 
they  need.  They  sit  under  the  word,  and  yet 
it  never  becomes  a  living  reality.  They  pray, 
and  yet  they  never  have  any  sense  of  the 
divine  favor.  They  are  devout  and  reverent, 
yet  they  cannot  find  rest  and  peace.  They 
have  a  religion,  but  it  is  not  a  religion  they 
would  like  to  die  with.  There  is  no  deliver- 
ance, no  triumph,  no  light  of  his  countenance 
filling  them  with  joy  and  a  conscious  victory. 
The  power  of  sin  is  not  brolcen.  They  wonder 
why.  They  almost  feel  tempted  to  mock  at 
those  who  do  find  in  the  service  of  God  the 
aim  and  delight  of  their  whole  life.  And  yet 
they  are  sincere  in  their  prayers.  They  kneel 
and  confess  their  dependence  upon  Him  ;  they 
acknowledge  his  greatness,  and  thank  him  for 
his  gifts,  and  offer  him  of  their  substance, 
and  yet  they  have  no  conscious  acceptance 
with  him.  Can  we  not  put  our  finger  upon 
the  cause  of  this  failure?  They  have  stopped 
short  of  the  blood  of  sprinkling.  They  have 
got  exactly  as  far  as  Cain  got — and  no  farther. 


72         Some  Aspects  of  tJie  Blessed  Life. 

All  else  is  of  no  avail  until  we  reach  this  :  "  Ye 
are  come.  ...  to  the  blood  of  sprinkling,  that 
speaketh,"  says  the  apostle  here.  Come,  then, 
as  those  that  have  sinned,  let  us  draw  near 
and  listen  to  this  wondrous  voice  of  the  blood. 

"  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,"  who  is  given 
as  the  sacrifice  for  our  sins;  "who  beareth 
away  the  sin  of  the  world."  Sit  here  and 
listen  with  the  ear  of  thine  heart  to  this  voice 
of  the  blood.  O  my  soul,  how  deep  and  ter- 
rible a  reality  is  thy  sin,  if  to  save  thee 
from  its  curse  the  Son  of  God  must  come 
from  heaven,  the  only  begotten,  who  dwelt  in 
the  bosom  of  the  Father  I  See,  he  hangeth 
upon  the  cross,  the  King  of  glory  ;  who  can 
tell  the  depths  of  this  bitter  shame,  who  can 
ever  know  the  awful  agony  of  that  hour  ? 
Torn,  mocked,  deserted,  accursed — thus  hath 
he  brought  out  and  set  up  the  dreadful  mean- 
ing of  my  sin. 

There  are  moments  when  no  words  can  tell 
the  horror  with  which  men  turn  from  some 
glimpse  of  the  hateful  possibilities  of  evil  that 
lie  within  them.  But  alas,  there  are  other 
times  when  all  the  consciousness  of  sin  is 
numbed,  paralyzed,  dead.     Sin  is  but  a  tradi- 


The  Bhod  of  Christ.  73 

tion,  a  word,  a  thing  scarcely  noticed  and 
easily  forgotten.  O  how  do  we  need  this 
mighty  voice  of  the  blood  that  speaketh  to  us 
— so  awful,  so  persistent,  so  unsparing  ;  for- 
ever uttering,  not  in  word  only,  but  in  deed 
and  in  truth,  what  our  sin  is!  The  measure 
of  my  sin,  its  length  and  breadth,  its  height 
and  depth,  is  in  the  cross  of  Christ.  The 
voice  of  God's  judgment  meets  me  there. 
There  and  there  only  can  I  hear  what  God 
saith  of  sin. 

And  yet,  come  again  and  listen.  Not  of 
condemnation  only  does  this  voice  of  the 
blood  speak.  It  tells  of  the  exceeding  sinful- 
ness of  sin,  and  yet  it  tells  of  love — infinite, 
amazing,  overwhelming  love.  How  dear 
must  I  be  to  the  heart  of  the  Father,  if  for  me 
he  has  given  his  Son,  his  only  Son,  his  well 
beloved !  What  a  desire  to  save  is  this ! 
How  strong  and  yearning,  how  deep  and 
eager  is  the  love  which  speaks  to  me  in  the 
gift  of  such  a  sacrifice  and  such  a  Saviour ! 
Sin  black  and  awful,  yet  love  immense  and 
infinite,  is  the  proclamation  of  this  wondrous 
voice  of  the  blood.  O  blessed  be  God  forever 
for  this  voice,  that  soundeth  through  all  time 


74         Sonic  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

and  to  all  men  a  great  message  of  entreaty  and 
tenderest  compassion  !  Herein  is  love.  Here 
is  the  fountain  of  hope,  here  is  the  voice  that 
speaketh  of  the  black  dreadfulness  of  sin ; 
here  is  the  terrible  manifestation  of  what  our 
sin  is,  and  yet  here  is  the  great  pledge  and 
measure  of  God's  love,  unchangeable,  eternal, 
infinite. 

Again,  that  "  voice  of  the  blood  "  speaks  of 
the  holy  law  satisfied.  Death  is  the  penalty 
of  sin.  "  The  wages  of  sin  is  death."  I  hear 
this  proclaimed,  as  nothing  else  could  proclaim 
it,  in  this  great  sacrifice.  But  as  I  bow  at  the 
cross  I  hear  another  voice.  That  sacrifice 
declares  the  righteousness  of  God  satisfied  : 
"  Christ  hath  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of 
the  law,  being  made  a  curse  for  us." 

Here  is  the  mighty  and  prevailing  voice  that 
forever  speaks  to  God  for  me.  In  that  cross  I 
see  the  black  vision  of  my  sin  in  all  its  dread- 
fulness.  There  I  see  God's  judgment  and 
sentence  upon  my  sin,  but  there,  too,  I  find 
my  representative,  my  substitute.  Christ 
hath  suffered,  "  the  just  for  the  unjust,  that  he 
mic;;ht  bring  us  to  God,"  In  him  "  we  have 
redemption  through  his  blood,  the  forgiveness 


The  Blood  of  Christ.  75 

of  sins."  The  voice  of  the  blood  is  the  eter- 
nal declaration  of  God's  righteousness  for  the 
remission  of  sins;  "That  he  might  be  just, 
and  the  justifier  of  him  which  believeth  in 
Jesus."  The  voice  of  the  blood  is  no  more  a 
dreadful  clamor  for  vengeance  and  punish- 
ment ;  it  is  the  "  fear  not "  of  God  to  the 
heart  of  the  world.  It  comes  amid  our  dark- 
ness and  striving,  our  fear  and  helplessness, 
and  speaketh,  "  Peace,  be  still,"  and  there  is 
a  great  calm.  All  the  condemning  voice  of 
the  past  is  hushed :  "  There  is  no  condemna- 
tion to  them  which  are  in  Christ  Jesus." 

Do  not  let  us  care  to  inquire  too  curiousl)^ 
as  to  how  the  blood  of  Christ  atones  for  our 
sins.  Let  us  remember  that  our  conceptions 
of  the  claims  and  majesty  of  God's  righteous- 
ness are  very  dim.  We  can  and  do  find  in  the 
blood  of  sprinkling  that  which  we  need.  What 
if  there  lie  around  and  about  the  cross  depths 
of  mystery  that  we  cannot  know  as  yet ;  is  it 
not  the  more  divine  thereby,  and  not  the  less 
so?  Perhaps  we  cannot  exactly  put  into  any 
words  the  way  in  which  the  death  of  Christ 
becomes  the  ground  of  our  forgiveness.  We 
do  know,  and  join  our  testimony  with  thousands 


'jd        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

of  others,  that  coming  to  the  blood  of  sprhik- 
Hng  we  find  not  a  grim  and  dreadful  being, 
but  the  blessed  way  to  the  heart  of  our  Father, 
God.  VVe  find  there  a  joy  and  deliverance,  a 
conscious  forgiveness  and  a  testimony  of  ac- 
ceptance, such  as  the  whole  world  longs  for, 
and  which  the  world  can  find  nowhere  else. 
And  assuredly  experience  is  as  good  and 
sound  an  evidence  in  matters  of  religion  as  it 
is  in  any  thing  else. 

There  and  there  only  is  the  power  by 
which  we  were  redeemed  from  the  curse  of 
the  law.  There  and  there  only  is  the  power 
by  which  the  flesh  is  crucified  with  the  lusts 
thereof.  There  and  there  only  are  we  cru- 
cified to  the  world,  and  the  world  is  crucified 
to  us. 

So,  then,  if  the  blessed  life  begins  in  a  clear 
and  complete  deliverance  from  the  past — a 
new  life  without  condemnation  or  fear,  its  very 
starting-point  is  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  "  Without  shedding  of  blood 
there  is  no  remission." 

If  the  blessed  life  means  a  tender  sensitive- 
ness to  sin,  an  abhorrence  of  it  as  loathsome, 
where  else  can    that   be  created  or  sustained 


The  Blood  of  Christ.  77 

save    in   the  cross  of  Christ  ?      There   is  the 
awful  sentence  and  end  of  sin. 

If  the  blessed  life  has  its  strength  in  a  per- 
fect surrender  of  self  to  the  will  of  God,  the 
sacrifice  and  death  of  self  for  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  good  of  others,  then  here  in  the 
cross  of  Christ  alone  is  the  example,  ever  vivid 
and  mighty,  that  summons  us  to  such  a  life : 
here  and  here  only  are  the  obligation  and  the 
inspiration  of  the  blessed  life. 

If  the  blessed  life  is,  above  all  else,  a  great 
love  to  God — a  love  that  masters  and  subdues 
us  for  his  service  ;  that  draws  out  all  the  love 
of  our  hearts  and  compels  the  devotion  of  our 
whole  lives — where  else  can  we  find  the  birth- 
place of  such  love,  except  in  the  cross  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ? 

Therefore,  neither  in  this  world  nor  in  the 
world  to  come  will  we  have  done  with  this  way  of 
approach  unto  God  through  the  precious  blood 
of  Christ.  Here  and  hereafter  it  shall  be  the 
strength  of  our  hope,  the  source  of  our  joy, 
the  theme  of  our  adoring  love.  Never  old, 
never  worn  out  :  "  And  they  sung  a  new  song, 
saying,  Thou  wast  slain,  and  hast  redeemed  us 
to  God  by  thy  blood." 


78         Soine  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 


CHAPTER  V. 

COMMUNION. 

THE    NINETY-FIRST    PSALM. 

"He  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High 
shall  abide  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty." 

Our  gracious  God  has  many  visitors,  and 
has  a  kindly  welcome  for  all  who  come  to 
him.  Some  come  as  his  poor  dependents, 
knocking  at  the  back  door  and  seeking  to  get 
their  basket  filled  with  the  scraps  they  need. 
Well,  these  shall  not  be  sent  empty  away, 
but,  alas,  how  much  they  lose !  They  have 
his  gifts,  but  they  never  see  his  face,  they 
never  hear  his  voice,  they  never  know  his 
heart. 

Some  are  his  servants.  They  dwell  with 
him.  They  seek  to  know  his  will,  and  set 
themselves  to  do  it  earnestly.  They  com- 
mune with  him.  And  yet  they  do  not  dwell  in 
the  innermost  circle.  Having  done  his  work 
they  turn  to  their  own.  There  are  limits  and 
divisions  of  interest. 


Communion.  79 

Some  are  his  children.  They  are  always 
with  him.  They  live  in  his  presence :  they 
are  ever  at  home  with  him.  They  know  his 
heart.  Unto  them  he  saith,  "  Son,  thou  art 
ever  with  me,  and  all  that  I  have  is  thine." 

Pauper,  servant,  son — which  are  we?  This 
psalm  is  the  song  of  one  who  dwells  with  God. 
The  psalm  of  the  Son,  from  which  the  tempter 
fetched  the  quotation  with  which  he  feath- 
ered his  arrow:  "  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God  ; 
.  .  .  for  it  is  written  ..."  He  whose  heart 
can  sing  this  song  has  found  in  God  a  rest,  a 
satisfaction,  a  delight,  a  home. 

It  is  supposed  by  many  that  this  psalm  was 
written  by  Moses.  Certainly  there  are  in  it  allu- 
sions that  would  come  most  naturally  from  one 
in  his  circumstances.  This  first  verse  gathers  a 
fullness  of  new  meaning  as  we  think  of  it  com- 
ing from  his  lips.  We  think  of  him  in  the 
wilderness,  wearied  with  a  people  who  seemed 
incapable  of  entering  into  any  worthy  thought 
of  their  high  calling,  vexed  at  the  delays  and 
wanderings;  wearied,  too,  by  the  unchanging 
dreariness  of  the  desert.  He,  a  whole  heaven 
above  the  people  in  the  nobility  of  his  spirit, 
turns  from  all  this  to  find  comfort  in  God,  and 


8o         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

prays,  "  I  beseech  thee,  show  me  thy  glory." 
There  is  given  the  gracious  answer,  "  Behold, 
there  is  a  place  by  me,  and  thou  shalt  stand 
upon  a  rock.  ...  I  will  put  thee  in  a  cleft  of 
the  rock.  I  will  make  all  my  goodness  pass 
before  thee,  and  I  will  proclaim  the  name  of 
the  Lord  before  thee."  We  think  of  him 
going  up  into  the  secret  place  of  the  Most 
High — away  from  the  multitude  into  the  un- 
broken calm  and  stillness ;  up  from  the  dreary 
monotony  of  the  desert  into  the  Mount  of  the 
Lord,  with  new  beauties  opening  before  him 
at  every  step ;  up  from  the  languid  heat  into 
the  fresh  wind  of  the  early  morning ;  on  to 
where  God  himself  waits  with  all-gracious  wel- 
come, and  then  into  the  cave.  And  there  the 
Lord,  the  Lord  God,  passed  by  and  proclaimed 
himself.  And  there  Moses  finds  God  as  his 
own — "  my  God  " — and  puts  Israel  into  his 
keeping,  and  prays  him  to  come  and  make  his 
abode  among  them. 

That  mountain  height,  that  secret  place,  is 
within  our  reach.  It  is  Calvary.  There  are 
the  clefts  of  the  rock  wherein  we  hide  while 
God  comes  down  to  make  his  goodness  pass 
before  us.     Then  may  we  draw  near  to  say  of 


Communion.  8 1 

him,  "  My   God,"    and    to    find    in   him    our 
dwelling-place  and  home. 

Our  home  in  God.  Let  the  thought  sink 
down  into  the  heart  and  become  a  desire,  a 
purpose,  a  possession.  It  is  for  us,  for  each  one 
of  us,  to  know  it  if  we  will ;  to  go  up  out  of  the 
way  of  the  wilderness,  and  to  find  our  rest  and 
dwelling-place  in  him.  Outside  are  biting 
winds  and  bitter  rains ;  outside  are  stony 
ways  and  stony  faces  too ;  outside  are  the 
fleeting  hopes  that  find  no  place  to  light  upon, 
wishes  that  are  swiftly  swept  away  by  fear  ; 
outside  all  that  suggests  hurry,  and  toil,  and 
want,  and  uncertainty;  a  hungry  world,  not 
knowing  what  it  seeks,  but  believing  that  its 
satisfaction  lies  ever  a  little  farther  on.  To 
step  out  of  this  into  the  secret  place  of  the 
Most  High — what  is  it?  To  find  one's  self  no 
more  a  bubble  flung  on  lawless  seas ;  no  more 
a  fallen  leaf,  the  sport  of  wintry  winds ;  but 
round  and  about  us  are  the  everlasting  arms, 
and  we  rest  against  the  very  heart  of  our 
Father,  God  ;  to  be  known  through  and 
through — all  the  weakness  and  the  want,  the 
wasted  past,  the  dreadful  possibilities  of  evil 
within  us — and  yet  to  be  loved  infinitely ;  to 


82        So7}ie  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

be  known  in  all  our  dull  thought  of  things, 
our  clumsy  failure,  our  quick  forgetfulness, 
our  shallowness  and  cowardice,  and  yet  to 
hold  as  our  own  such  exceeding  precious 
promises  of  blessedness  ;  to  pass  out  of  the 
din  and  the  grinding  wheels  of  earth,  with  its 
mystery  of  want  and  pain  and  sorrow,  and  to 
rest  in  a  great  assurance  of  pity  and  help  for 
every  one — that  behind  all  things  and  running 
through  and  through  all  things  is  the  love  of 
the  Father,  and  that  all  things  are  set  to  this 
one  end  :  to  help  men  up  to  higher  life,  no 
more  the  uncertain,  but  a  very  terra  finna; 
lying  down  in  the  shadow  of  the  Eternal ;  feel- 
ing that  waves  may  toss  far  down  below  us, 
and  tides  may  come  and  go,  but  this  sure 
rock  of  our  resting-place  abideth  for  ever  and 
ever;  to  have  the  hallowing  hush  of  God's 
own  presence,  the  soothing,  strengthening 
touch  of  his  own  hand,  the  heaven  of  his  smile 
and  favor — this  is  to  dwell  in  the  secret  place 
of  the  Most  High.  To  let  ourselves  and  ours 
go  with  a  glad  abandonment  right  into  the 
keeping  of  his  love ;  to  live  with  a  childlike 
freedom  from  care,  or  fear,  or  want,  knowing 
that  he  careth  for  us ;  to  be  loosed  from  ambi- 


Communion.  83 

tion ;  to  have  no  fierce  and  jealous  eagerness, 
and  yet  to  be  stirred  with  a  great  desire  and 
a  fixed  endeavor  to  know  his  will  and  to  please 
him  perfectly — this  is  to  dwell  in  his  secret 
place.  And  there,  hidden  in  the  cleft  of  the 
rock,  it  is  ours  to  look  out  on  all  things,  find- 
ing every-where  the  revelation  of  his  goodness, 
and  hearing  evermore  that  voice  proclaiming 
"  The  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gra- 
cious." 

"  He  that  dwelleth  .  .  .  shall  abide."  These 
words  denote  the  settled  and  unchanging.  This 
is  no  occasional  privilege,  as  when  the  high 
priest  once  a  year  went  into  the  holiest  of  all. 
It  is  no  exceptional  thing — the  festival  of  some 
rare  day.  No  vision  is  it,  shortlived.  Not  a 
rift  in  the  clouds,  a  passing  glimpse  of  a  glory 
that  is  to  be  hereafter.  We  dwell,  and  he 
abides.  God  is  to  us  what  we  will  let  him  be. 
He  changeth  not.  Where  we  are  bold  to 
co-me  there  may  we  be  bold  to  stay.  He  will 
not  go  away;  nor  need  we.  If  we  will  dwell 
there,  there  will  he  abide. 

A  secret  place.  He  only  that  seeketh  shall 
find  it.  A  blessedness  of  which  any  man  may 
say,  "  It  shall  be  mine,  and  I  will  search  dili- 


84        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

gently  until  I  find  it;"  but  they  shall  never 
know  it  who  think  they  can  drift  to  heaven 
with  languid  desires  and  lofty  longings  that 
come  to  nothing.  Nor  is  it  for  those  who  can 
put  heart  and  soul  into  every  thing  else, 
sticking  at  it  until  they  do  succeed,  but  in 
religion  are  content  with  theories  and  notions, 
with  mere  creeds  and  services.  Yet  every 
one  that  seeketh  findeth.  It  is  an  open  secret 
to  the  searcher.  These  further  heights  of 
blessedness  are  not  a  kind  of  Alpine  climbing, 
requiring  great  endurance,  and  much  skill, 
and  resolute  courage.  Seek — never  mind  how 
clumsily,  if  only  the  heart  be  in  it.  Seek. 
God  sends  forth  his  light  and  truth  ;  they 
wait  for  us  at  the  foot  of  the  holy  hill.  Seek 
and  ye  shall  find.  Men  lose  these  things  not 
because  they  do  not  understand  them,  and 
not  because  they  do  not  desire  them,  but 
because  they  do  not  seek  them. 

And  then,  seeking  and  finding  the  secret 
place,  its  full  blessedness  is  for  those  only  who 
will  make  themselves  at  home  in  it.  Custom 
and  blessed  familiarity  are  needful  to  home. 
"  Is  this  our  home  ?  "  said  my  little  one  to 
me  as  we  drove  up  to   the   door   of  a  new 


Communion.  85 

abode.  "  No,"  said  I,  "  not  yet.  It  is  our 
house — it  will  be  our  home,  I  hope,  when  we 
get  used  to  it." 

Soul,  the  secret  of  finding  thy  home  in  God 
is  to  be  much  at  home  with  him. 

"  I  will  say  of  the  Lord,  he  is  my  refuge  and 
my  fortress :  my  God  ;  in  him  will  I  trust." 

Here  the  reader  sighs,  thinking,  "Ah,  it  is 
a  long  way  up  to  such  blessedness  as  that. 
I — poor,  dull,  unworthy  I — cannot  presume  to 
seek  such  a  privilege."  But  look :  the  scene 
changes  altogether.  Away  at  the  entrance  of 
the  valley  there  stands  the  castle  ;  the  high 
towers  from  which  the  banners  wave ;  the 
ramparts  where  valiant  men  in  armor  pace 
watchfully;  the  buttressed  walls,  and  moat 
and  guarded  entrance  ;  and  within  these  are 
the  royal  apartments  where  dwells  the  king 
with  his  lords  and  knights.  We,  alas !  are 
afar  off.  Not  for  us  a  home  like  that.  But 
some  day  the  foe  sweeps  across  the  country, 
bringing  ruin  and  death  wherever  they  come. 
Behind  them  the  sky  is  ruddy  with  the  fires  of 
the  destroyer.  Then  poor  peasants  fly  from 
their  lowly  homesteads — fathers  with  lads  and 
maidens,    mothers    with     their     little     ones. 


86         Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

Whither  shall  these  helpless  ones  hurry  ? 
Why,  to  the  castle,  of  course.  What  is  the 
good  of  a  refuge  if  it  is  only  for  valiant  knights 
and  mighty  men?  It  is  on  purpose  for  the 
weak,  the  little,  the  helpless.  The  foe  shall 
find  only  massive  walls  and  the  deep  moat, 
and  soldiers  who  stand  ready  to  receive  them  ; 
but  for  these  helpless  ones  there  is  a  postern 
gate,  low  down  within  their  reach,  where  they 
can  find  entrance  and  safety. 

A  home  in  God!  I  may  fear  to  say  so 
much  as  that.  But  here  is  the  door  within 
my  reach  :  "  I  will  say  of  the  Lord,  he  is  my 
refuge."  Think  not  that  our  glorious  God  is 
for  communion  with  the  holy  angels  only,  a 
home  for  lofty  saints  and  heroes  in  his  service. 
He  stoops  to  thee  and  me;  and  because  we  are 
weak  and  helpless  and  in  peril  we  can  find  in 
him  our  refuge. 

Here  may  each  begin.  "  My  refuge."  Think 
of  the  foes  that  pursue  us.  Out  of  that  past 
come  the  troops  of  the  things  undone,  half 
done,  ill  done.  The  passing  wish.  The  evil 
thought,  the  hasty  word,  the  influence  for  ill, 
these  things  cry  out  against  us  and  follow  us. 
That  past  cannot  be  buried,  cannot  be  hushed 


Coiniimnion.  87 

or  hidden  ;  it  lives  and  chases  us.  There 
is  a  refuge  and  fortress.  It  is  in  Christ  the 
Lord.  He  hath  borne  our  sins  in  his  own 
body  on  the  tree.  He  by  the  grace  of  God 
hath  tasted  death  for  every  man.  He  hath 
redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  being 
made  a  curse  for  us.  "  He  is  my  refuge."  A 
refuge  even  as  when  the  great  rock  in  the  des- 
ert Hfts  itself  up  and  catches  the  fierceness  of 
the  noonday  sun,  the  fiery  darts,  that  it  may 
cast  its  cool  and  refreshing  shade  over  those 
whp  rest  in  its  hollow  places ;  or  as  when 
the  little  fishing  boats  lie  safe  within  the 
harbor,  because  the  rocky  cliffs  rise  up  and 
catch  the  beat  of  furious  seas  that  dash  with 
thunder  and  hurl  the  showers  of  spray  far  up 
the  sides  ;  or  as  when  the  massive  walls  re- 
ceive the  spear  and  arrow  and  beat  them  back 
dinted  and  broken  to  the  ground,  that  the 
w^eak  ones  within  the  stronghold  may  be  safe. 
So  hath  the  Lord,  who  is  my  refuge,  given 
himself  for  my  deliverance  and  safety.  He 
hath  met  and  by  his  own  death  he  hath  for 
ever  silenced  my  foes.  And  now  "  there  is  no 
condemnation  to  them  that  are  in  Christ 
Jesus."     Over  all  the  past  there  goes  the  hush 


88         Soms  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

of  God's  forgiveness.     "  I  will  say  of  the  Lord, 
he  is  my  refuge." 

But  do  not  put  a  full  stop  there.  At  once 
there  comes  the  next  step :  "  my  refuge  and 
fortress."  A  refuge  is  the  place  in  which  I  hide 
from  my  sins.  A  fortress  is  where  I  turn  to 
fight  them.  Make  the  Lord  thy  refuge,  and 
then  at  once  up  the  steps  and  on  to  the  ram- 
parts. "And  my  fortress."  Let  me  run  from 
my  sins  till  I  find  my  Lord  ;  but  in  him,  as  my 
impregnable  stronghold,  let  me  defy  them  all. 
There,  soul,  is  the  secret  of  victory.  Outside 
the  refuge  thou  art  ruined,  but  inside  the 
fortress  thou  art  conquerer.  Sin  may  summon 
thee  to  surrender,  and  sound  the  trumpet,  and 
bend  the  bow,  and  talk  exceeding  proudly, 
but  my  Lord  is  my  fortress.  Then  let  me 
boldly  claim  the  victory.  In  him  it  is  mine  to 
h've  with  a  defiance  of  my  foes.  It  is  ours  to 
put  the  glorious  Lord  himself — his  grace  and 
his  power — as  the  walls  of  the  fortress  between 
us  and  our  sins.  Ill-temper,  hasty  speech,  fret- 
ting, foreboding,  pride,  envy,  indolence,  love  of 
the  v/orld,  of  gain,  of  self,  and  every  other  evil 
thing,  now  may  we  claim  the  victory  over  them 
all  since  the  Lord  is  our  fortress  !     Of  thyself 


Communion.  89 

and  in  thyself  nothing,  wilHng  to  be  weak,  a 
very  coward  outside  the  refuge ;  but  in  him 
daring  to  expect  and  to  claim  a  constant  con- 
quest, since  the  Lord  is  thy  helper.  "  Without 
me  ye  can  do  nothing."  Right  gladly  do  we 
acknowledge  it,  gracious  Master.  Thou  art 
our  refuge.  But  we  can  do  all  things  through 
Christ  who  strengtheneth  us ;  thou  art  our 
fortress. 

"  I  will  say  of  the  Lord  " — there  is  much  in 
that.  We  lose  much  because  it  lives  only  in 
suggestion,  in  vague  thought,  in  passing  desire. 
The  truth  wants  to  be  grasped  with  a  resolute 
grip ;  to  be  fixed  and  riveted  by  a  word  that 
gathers  up  all  the  soul  and  utters  it.  Say  it 
now:  I — there  must  be  the  personal  assertion  ; 
I  will — there  must  be  resoluteness ;  I  will  say 
— let  there  be  the  determined  expression  ; 
I  will  say  of  the  Lord,  he  is  my — there  must 
be  a  personal  claiming  and  possession.  Say 
it,  then,  soul ;  say  it  yet  again  ;  keep  saying  it. 
To  speak  the  thing  is  often  to  turn  a  thought 
into  desire,  and  desire  into  purpose,  and  pur- 
pose itself  into  half  possession.  Here  and  now 
it  may  be  into  full  possession.  "  I  will  say  of 
the  Lord,  he  is  my  refuge  and  my  fortress." 


90       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

But  the  full  stop  is  not  yet.  From  the  ram- 
parts I  am  led  within  the  royal  apartments. 
And,  lo  !  the  Lord  bringeth  me  into  the  ban- 
queting chamber,  and  there,  beneath  the  ban- 
ner of  his  love,  I  learn  to  rest  in  the  secret 
place,  and  abiding  under  the  shadow  of  the 
Almighty.     I,  even  I,  am  bold  to  say,  my  God. 

"  My  God."  Each  heart  must  unlock  for  it- 
self the  wonderful  wealth  and  fullness  that  are 
hidden  in  these  words.  We  cannot  come  to 
say  them  as  the  result  of  cold  argument  or 
exposition.  These  can  only  point  us  on 
toward  the  secret  place.  This  glad  possession 
is  born  only  of  communion,  heart  union,  as 
when  God  made  his  goodness  to  pass  before 
Moses  it  was  that  he  cried,  "  My  Lord  ! "  It 
comes  of  contact,  as  when  the  finger  rested  on 
the  very  wound-print,  and  the  hand  was  laid 
upon  that  sacred  side  ;  then  Thomas's  soul 
leapt  forth  with  this  glad  utterance,  "  My  Lord, 
and  my  God  !  "  It  is  a  knowledge  of  a  love  in 
which  God  gives  himself  to  me — all  mine. 
And  I  by  the  sweet  constraint  of  love's  own 
interchange  give  myself  up  to  him.  My  God  ! 
It  is  to  find  in  him  my  perfect  satisfaction,  to 
delight  in    his    law,    to    serve  him  in  the  al- 


Comtnunion.  91 

mightiness  of  his  help,  to  lie  down  in  his  care, 
to  dwell  in  the  safety  and  blessedness  of  his 
presence,  and  to  look  up  for  the  gladness  of  a 
communion  with  him  face  to  face,  as  a  man 
speaketh  unto  his  friend. 

'  My  God."  Words  that  seem  too  daring 
for  any  human  lips :  too  great  a  boast  for  any 
man.  And  yet  I  may  speak  them.  I,  who  found 
in  him  but  yesterday  my  refuge,  and  who 
came  seeking  in  him  only  my  fortress,  may 
boldly  claim  his  fullness  for  my  own.  I  can 
lose  my  fear  and  feebleness  and  want  in  him, 
like  a  drop  of  rain  that  falls  into  the  sea  ;  and 
I  possess  him  in  his  infinite  fullness.  Come, 
timid  child,  wilt  thou  say  it? — My  God. 
Tremblingly,  perhaps,  at  first,  but  say  it.  Ah, 
if  thou  wilt  hide  in  the  cleft  of  the  rock,  and 
wait  and  muse,  the  words  shall  well  up  from 
thine  heart.  Thou  canst  say  of  the  Lord,  "He 
is  my  refuge."  Tarry  here,  then,  and  gaze 
upon  the  Crucified.  Thinkest  thou  that  the 
cross  is  the  glorious  token  of  how  God  once 
loved  the  world  ;  as  if  it  swept  and  surged 
about  the  world,  a  very  flood  of  love,  that  left 
here  its  mark  and  measure,  while  the  love 
itself  was   withdrawn  into   the  bosom  of  our 


92         So7ne  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

God  ?  Nay,  the  cross  is  the  token,  the  pledge, 
the  measure  of  an  everlasting  love.  That,  in 
all  its  agony  of  desire  and  unutterable  eager- 
ness to  help  and  to  bless,  is  the  declaration  of 
how  God  feels  toward  the  world  to-day. 
"  The  world."  Dost  thou  sigh,  thinking, 
"  Yes,  to  the  world.  A  pity  moved  by  a  mass 
of  suffering  in  which  I  am  but  one  !  "  Nay  ! 
God's  love  is  perfect.  If  he  love  thee  at  all, 
he  can  only  love  thee  with  all  his  love.  Love 
cannot  be  shared.  It  is  all  in  all  or  not  at 
all.  It  is  every-thing  or  nothing.  Our  love 
— misled,  deceived,  too  passionate  and  then 
forgetful — partakes  of  human  frailty  ;  yet  is  it 
a  thing  almost  divine.  Like  God,  it  is  infinite, 
it  is  immortal,  defying  force.  Think,  then,  of 
the  great,  deep,  perfect  love  of  God — all  thine  ; 
as  if  he  had  no  other  heart  on  which  to  bestow 
his  love.  "  My  God,"  thou  mayest  say  right 
boldly,  "  as  if  I  were  his  only  child.  His 
power  mine,  all  mine  ;  as  if  the  everlasting 
arms  were  only  for  my  protection.  His  wis- 
dom mine,  as  if  it  were  nothing  but  the  guid- 
ance of  my  steps.  He  mine,  as  if  I  were  his 
universe  and  he  my  God." 

But  is  not  this  the  essence  of  selfishness,  of 


Communion.  93 

greediness,  forgetting  others  in  the  vastness 
of  my  claim?  Ah,  this  is  the  glory  of  our 
God.  Here  greediness  is  consecrated.  Here 
am  I  exhorted  to  covet  earnestly,  for  covet- 
ousness  itself  is  ennobled.  The  more  of  earth 
I  have,  the  less  others  may  call  their  own ; 
but  the  more  of  God  I  have,  the  more  shall 
others  have  as  theirs.  Love  and  truth  and 
goodness  cannot  be  hoarded.  They  live  by 
blessing  like  God's  sun  by  shining. 

"  In  him  will  I  trust " — of  course,  and  irre- 
sistibly. Faith  cannot  be  forced  ;  it  must 
be  won.  It  is  a  poor  trust  that  lives  by  argu- 
ment. Here  is  faith's  birthplace  and  home — ■ 
in  knowing  Him.  "  I  know  whom  I  have 
believed,  and  am  persuaded  that  he  is  able 
to  keep"  —  that  is  the  cry  of  faith.  With 
such  mighty  power  and  such  tender  care 
about  us  we  trust  because  we  cannot  help  it ; 
•without  effort ;  almost  without  consciousness 
of  trusting,  lying  down  in  the  everlasting  arms 
of  love. 

So,  then,  I  will  give  myself  with  a  glad  aban- 
donment to  him  who  is  my  God.  All  things 
that  come  I  will  take  from  him,  in  every  thing 
sure  of  his  love.     All  thino-s  I  have  I  will  use 


94        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

for  him,  making  his  good  things  better  by  his 
service. 

"  Let  good  or  ill  befall, 

It  must  be  good  for  me  : 
Secure  of  having  thee  in  all, 

Of  having  all  in  thee." 

Surely  he  shall  deliver  thee.  Now  follows 
a  description  of  the  safety  of  our  home. 
When  we  dwell  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most 
High,  the  hospitality  of  our  Host,  the  honor  of 
our  King,  the  tender  care  of  our  Father,  the 
glory  of  our  God  are  alike  involved  in  our 
safety.  Harm  might  come  to  us  from  the 
strength  of  the  enemy ;  or  through  the  weak- 
ness of  our  defense  ;  or  through  the  careless- 
ness of  our  guardian.  It  is  good  to  lie  in  our 
stronghold,  and  to  call  up  possibilities  of  evil 
only  to  see  them  become  impossibilities  the 
moment  we  turn  to  our  God.  When  Omnip- 
otence protects,  what  foe  can  prevail?  Care- 
lessness !  nay,  indeed  ;  never  was  love  so 
watchful,  so  eager,  so  constant  as  that  which 
encompasseth  us.  He  will  not  suffer  thy  foot 
to  be  moved.  He  that  keepeth  thee  will  not 
slumber. 

But  there  is  another  source  of  peril.     It  is 


Comniimion.  95 

not  in  him,  but  iu  ourselves  ;  in  our  foolish 
wanderings,  in  our  presumption,  our  unwatch- 
fulness.  Then  comes  at  once  an  illustration 
of  His  care  and  a  suggestion  of  our  danger. 
"  He  shall  deliver  thee  from  the  snare  of  the 
fowler;"  that  is,  from  the  little  things,  the 
hidden  traps  and  nets  that  are  set  for  us. 
This  first,  as  if  this  deliverance  were  most 
needful.  Great  sins  frighten  where  little 
snares  entangle.  It  is  easier  to  escape  the 
huntsman's  arrow  than  the  crafty  lure.  And 
where  are  they  not  set  ?  Riches  and  poverty, 
sickness  and  strength,  prosperity  and  adver- 
sity, friendship  and  loneliness,  the  work  and  the 
want  of  it — each  has  its  snare,  wherein  not 
only  are  the  unwary  caught,  but  the  wise  and 
the  watchful  sometimes  fall  a  prey.  Little 
things,  mere  threads,  hardly  worth  guarding 
against — yet  are  they  strong  enough  to  hold 
us  and  hinder  us,  and  may  be  the  beginning 
of  our  destruction. 

See,  here  is  the  lark  caught  in  the  net — its 
foot  is  tangled  in  the  cord.  Twist  and  strug- 
gle and  flutter  as  it  may,  it  cannot  rise  ;  its 
very  efforts  only  make  it  more  hopelessly 
fixed.     There   far  above  it  stretches  the  fair 


96        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

blue  heaven,  and  it  spreads  its  wings  and  longs 
to  soar.  From  the  grove  there  is  the  music 
of  the  happy  birds  that  delight  in  their  free- 
dom ;  but  it  can  only  utter  a  dreary  note  of 
distress.  Now  there  comes  one  who  sees  it 
and  with  tender  pity  hastens  to  its  rescue. 
He  folds  the  bird  gently  within  his  hand,  and 
then  with  skillful  fingers  disentangles  and 
untwists  the  net  and  the  poor  captive  is  loosed 
from  the  snare.  "  Foolish  bird,"  saith  he,  "  thou 
shouldest  be  more  watchful."  And  then  he 
opens  his  hand.  At  once  it  flies  far  into  the 
heavens,  and  now,  sure  of  its  safety,  it  sings 
as  it  soars,  and  soars  as  it  sings,  as  if  its  pas- 
sionate gladness  and  gratitude  can  find  no 
sufficient  outlet. 

How  often  is  it  so  with  us  !  We,  too,  are 
caught  in  the  snare  of  the  fowler ;  little  things 
that  tie  and  hold  us  to  the  earth.  The  de- 
sires go  out  after  God,  but  we  linger  far  below. 
We  hear  the  joy  of  others  who  dwell  in  the 
light  of  his  countenance  ;  but  we  are  threatened 
with  evil  and  filled  with  fear.  Some  foolish 
overeagerness,  some  depression  of  mind  or 
body,  some  neglect,  some  unwatchfulness,  some 
ill-will  has  caught  us  and  holds  us  down.     O, 


Communion.  97 

blessed  be  that  gracious  Lord  whose  quick 
eye  seeth  our  need  ;  who  stoopeth  so  low  to 
loose  us  from  the  snare  ;  whose  tender  patience 
and  ready  skill  do  set  us  free  once  more,  so 
that  we  soar  and  sing  again  far  up  in  the  light 
at  heaven's  very  gate.  "  He  restoreth  my 
soul."  "  He  shall  deliver  thee  from  the  snare 
of  the  fowler." 

"  He  shall  deliver  thee  . . .  from  the  noisome 
pestilence."  The  vast  ;  the  invisible ;  that 
which  wraps  itself  about  a  nation,  enfolding  it 
with  death ;  coming  noiseless  as  the  night ; 
lurking  in  the  air  ;  which  no  skill  can  detect,  * 
which  no  care  can  avoid  ;  finding  its  prey  alike 
in  him  who  hurries  on  his  duty,  and  in  him 
who  is  the  slave  of  sin.  Here,  too,  fear  not. 
Go  bravely  on.  Wealth,  wisdom,  strength,  can 
avail  us  nothing  amid  such  peril ;  yet  need 
we  fear  no  evil.  With  a  trustful  heart  and  a 
glad  confidence  look  up  to  thy  God  ;  he  knows, 
he  watches,  he  leads,  he  protects.  He  shall 
deliver  thee. 

*'  He  shall  cover  thee  with  his  feathers,  and 
under  his  wings  shalt  thou  trust."  Our  gracious 
God  would  wrap  us  round  with  his  love.  He 
would  have  us  rest,  not  only  in  safety,  but  in 


98        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

such  snugness  and  cosiness  of  shelter — under 
his  feathers.  I  went  once  over  one  of  our  prin- 
cipal fortifications ;  past  terraces  of  artillery, 
up  guarded  heights,  here  and  there  looking 
out  on  the  blue  waters  where  lay  the  monster 
iron-clads  asleep :  past  troops  of  soldiers  with 
roll  of  drum  and  bugle-call.  "  Here,"  I 
thought,  "  is  safety  :  these  heights  that  no  en- 
emy could  scale,  and  thus  securely  protected  ; 
and  yet,  who  would  care  to  live  here,  amid 
these  cannons,  where  trees  and  flowers  are  out 
of  place,  and  the  only  sound  is  of  military 
music  and  the  orders  of  the  officers?  "  Then, 
suddenly,  I  came  upon  a  little  cottage,  almost 
hidden  amid  luxurious  growth  of  flowers  ;  rose, 
and  jessamine,  and  honeysuckle  clustered 
about  the  door,  and  hung  around  the  windows  ; 
the  narrow  beds  were  full  of  gayer  colors ; 
the  canary,  hung  in  the  deep  porch,  rang  out 
its  merriest  music  ;  and  from  within  the  house 
there  came  the  happy  laughter  of  the  children. 
This  just  took  hold  of  the  whole  scene  and 
transformed  it.  It  turned  the  grim  hardness 
of  the  fortifications  into  a  blessed  safety.  It 
was  a  warm,  living  heart  in  the  midst  of  the 
defenses.     I  recall  it  as  a  poor  earthly  sugges- 


Communion.  99 

tion  of  what  is  set  forth  here.  Here  is  the 
Omnipotence  that  girds  us  round  about  with 
perfect  safety.  But  here  is  not  power  only. 
He  shall  cover  thee  with  his  feathers,  and  un- 
der his  wings  "  shalt  thou  trust."  Ah  !  such  a 
home  is  there  in  the  heart  of  this  power;  such 
a  tender  love.  This  is  where  God  would  have 
us — in  where  we  can  ever  feel  the  pulsing  of 
his  love  toward  us;  compassed  about  with 
favor  as  with  a  shield. 

"  His  truth  shall  be  thy  shield  and  buckler." 
As  if  all  this  power  and  this  wondrous  love 
were  not  enough,  the  whole  is  yet  further 
guarded  by  his  truth.  Thy  hiding-place  is 
within  the  warmth  and  snugness  of  his  love  ; 
about  thee  is  Almighty  power  as  thy  defense ; 
and  then,  as  if  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure, 
he  gives  thee  the  pledge  of  his  own  truth. 
Our  gracious  God  seems  to  hand  over  to  us  the 
title-deeds  that  convey  this  glorious  freehold 
to  us,  and  duly  signs  and  seals  it.  His  honor 
binds  him  evermore  to  us,  and  binds  us  ever- 
more to  him. 

O  soul,  be  still  and  meditate  upon  this. 
Slowly  count  up  what  great  store  of  blessedness 
thou  hast  in   thy  God.     We  trip  lightly  over 


lOO       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

the  words — even  words  sublime  as  these  may 
come  to  be  but  famihar  sounds ;  or  we  Hnger 
over  the  beauty,  the  majesty,  the  sublimity  of 
the  sentiment  as  if  these  truths,  like  the  shin- 
ing stars,  were  to  be  admired  only,  not  pos- 
sessed. We  need  to  make  these  words  our 
own,  our  very  own,  in  soberest  prose  and  liv- 
ing fact  just  true  to  the  letter  for  us.  All  this 
is  what  God,  even  thy  God,  would  be  to  thee. 
All  this  is  what  thou  mayest  know.  This  is 
where  thou  mayest  dwell.  Of  this  loftiest 
height  and  of  this  innermost  blessedness  may 
it  be  spoken,  "Him  that  cometh  unto  me  I 
will  in  no  wise  cast  out." 

"  Thou  shalt  not  be  afraid."  Very  wonderful, 
too,  is  this  note  of  the  song,  and  very  blessed. 
God  not  only  saves  us  from  our  foes,  but  he 
saves  us  from  our  fears.  We  sometimes  laugh 
at  the  silly  fears  of  our  little  ones,  who  mag- 
nify their  fancies  into  dreadful  evils.  Think, 
then,  what  our  silly  fears  must  be  in  the  sight 
of  our  God.  And  how  dishonoring,  since  he 
he  has  given  us  such  assurances  to  encourage 
our  trust.  And  yet  our  God  stoops  to  soothe 
away  our  fears.  He  laughs  at  the  threats  of 
his  enemies,  and  hath  them  in  derision  ;  but 


Conwmnion.  loi 

never  at  the  fears  of  his  children.  Do  you 
remember  when  God  had  pledged  to  Gideon 
the  destruction  of  the  Midian  host,  how  ten- 
der a  word  he  spake  to  the  brave  captain  ? 
"  If  thou  fear,  go  thou  with  Phurah  thy  ser- 
vant down  to  the  host :  and  thou  shalt  hear 
what  they  say."  Then  away  under  cover  of 
the  darkness  crept  Gideon  and  his  companion. 
And  as  they  moved  about  among  the  sleep- 
ing soldiers  it  came  to  pass  that  one  lifted 
himself  from  his  uneasy  slumbers  and  told  his 
fellow  of  his  dream.  "  Such  a  strange  dream," 
said  he  :  "  I  dreamt  that  a  cake  of  barley  bread 
tumbled  into  the  host  of  Midian,  and  it  came 
unto  a  tent  and  smote  it  that  it  fell."  Then 
he  to  whom  the  dreamer  told  his  dream  an- 
swered, with  troubled  voice  :  "  This  is  nothing 
else  but  the  sword  of  Gideon  ;  for  into  his  hand 
hath  God  delivered  Midian  and  all  his  host." 
Then  Gideon's  heart  leaped  up  to  God  with  a 
great  thanksgiving.  He  came  back  girt  with 
new  strength — "Arise,"  said  he,  "  for  the  Lord 
hath  delivered  Midian  into  your  hands  !  " 

Surely  here  is  the  very  completeness  of  all 
tender  love,  that  does  not  only  guard  us  thus 
from  our  foes,  but  stoops  to  quiet  thus  our 


102      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

foolish  fears.  Fear  not  then,  soul,  to  take  thy 
fears  to  Him,  who  knows  well  how  to  cure 
them.  If  he  have  borne  thy  sins,  he  will  bear 
with  thy  fears ;  and  his  tender  love  is  glad  to 
give  us  this  deliverance, 

"  Thou  shalt  not  be  afraid  for  the  terror  by 
night ;  nor  for  the  arrow  that  flieth  by  day." 
By  night  he  is  ever  watchful;  by  day  he  is 
swift  to  deliver.  For  the  night  the  Lord  is  a 
sun ;  for  the  arrow  he  is  a  shield.  Fear  not, 
then,  the  pestilence  that  walketh  in  darkness, 
nor  the  destruction  that  wasteth  at  noonday. 

The  vastness  of  the  evil  brings  no  peril  to 
the  man  who  is  in  God.  Under  his  shadow, 
that  which  threatens  must  strike  through  the 
Most  High  before  it  can  reach  us.  A  thousand 
shall  fall  at  thy  side,  and  ten  thousand  at  thy 
right  hand  ;  but  it  shall  not  come  nigh  thee. 

How  grand  a  thing  is  this  simple,  untroub- 
led trust  in  God  !  How  powerless  in  its  pres- 
ence is  every  foe  !  When  Omnipotence  is  our 
defense  with  what  a  majestic  confidence  may 
we  come  and  go !  The  destroyer  is  spell- 
bound. Rage  is  harmless,  like  winds  that 
sweep  and  howl  among  the  rocks  ;  fierce  pur- 
poses are  turned  aside,  "  like  lightning  dead- 


Communion.  103 

ened  by  the  sea."  Has  earth  a  sublimer  hero- 
ism than  that  of  David ;  of  Daniel ;  of  the 
three  Hebrew  children  ;  of  St.  Paul  ?  Thank 
God,  this  is  the  miracle  for  all  time :  this 
calm  triumph  of  faith.  It  is  the  glorious  gift 
held  out  to  each  one  of  us.  The  wonder  is 
that  with  such  promises  these  victories  of 
faith  are  so  uncommon.  Yet  none  can  have 
moved  much  among  earnest  religious  people, 
or  have  read  the  records  of  Christians  during 
times  of  persecution,  without  being  familiar 
with  blessed  instances  of  this  heroism  of  trust. 

Here  is  a  bit  of  nineteenth-century  heroism 
as  sublime  and  triumphant  as  any  thing  of 
the  past.  It  is  from  the  Life  of  Joel  Bulu,  a 
Fijian  missionary:* 

"  In  the  early  morning  we  heard  the  war- 
trumpets  sounding  from  three  different 
points  :  and  our  people  gathered  together  in 
the  open  space  in  front  of  my  house,  waiting 
for  the  battle.  I  went  out  to  them,  and  cried 
with  a  loud  voice,  '  Sit  down.  Let  every  man 
sit  down.  Let  them  see  that  we  do  not  want 
to  fight.  Sit  down,  and  wait  for  the  will  of 
God.     Then,  if  they  fire  upon  us,  let  us  spring 

*  Autobiography  of  Joel  Bulu.    Edited  by  the  Rev.  G.  S.  Howe. 


104     Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

to  our  feet  and  fight  for  the  lives  which  he 
has  given  us.' 

"  So  they  all  sat  down  in  silence,  each  man 
with  his  weapon  lying  across  his  knees ;  and 
the  blast  of  the  war-trumpets  sounded  nearer 
and  nearer,  louder  and  ever  louder,  until  the 
enemy  appeared  in  sight  on  the  edge  of  the 
forest — a  great  multitude  of  heathen  warriors, 
all  painted  and  armed  for  war.  When  they 
saw  us,  they  set  up  a  shrill  cry ;  and  as  with 
a  confused  noise  they  came  forward  toward 
us,  I  spoke  to  our  people,  encouraging  them. 
'  Sit  still,'  said  I,  '  the  Lord  will  fight  for  us.' 
But  when  Abraham  saw  a  number  of  the 
heathen  leaving  the  main  body,  and  making  a 
circuit  as  if  to  get  round  to  the  back  of  our 
house,  then  he  ran  to  prevent  them,  and  cer- 
tain of  the  young  men  also  ran  with  him  ;  but 
I  called  them  back  and  made  them  sit  down 
again  with  the  others.  'Abraham,'  said  I, 
*  do  you  not  know  that  we  die  to-day — you 
•  and  I,  and  the  rest  of  us  here?  Why,  then, 
should  you  go  forth  to  meet  your  death,  and 
to  bring  it  upon  yourself?  Let  the  Lord  bring 
it  upon  us,  and  it  will  be  well.  Perhaps  even 
now  he  will  save  us  alive.' 


Coiniminion.  105 

"  And  the  heathen  came  up  to  where  we 
were  sitting.  Those  who  had  guns  pointed 
them  at  us;  those  who  were  armed  with  clubs 
raised  them  to  strike ;  the  spearmen  poised 
their  spears,  making  them  quiver  before  our 
eyes ;  and  the  bowmen  bent  their  bows ;  but 
no  shot  was  fired,  no  blow  was  struck,  no  spear 
was  thrown,  and  no  arrow  flew  in  our  midst. 
What  held  them  back  I  cannot  say :  this  only 
I  know,  that  for  a  long  while  they  stood  there 
threatening  us  with  their  weapons  of  war, 
while  we  sat  in  silence  speaking  never  a 
word  ;  but  our  hearts  were  crying  to  the  Lord 
for  help,  and  he  heard  their  cry.  At  length, 
after  the  enemy  had  been  for  a  long  time  thus 
threatening  us,  and  we  expecting  every  moment 
death  at  their  hands,  I  saw  a  chief  coming 
toward  us  through  the  town  with  a  whale's 
tooth  in  his  hand.  Walking  forward  between 
us  and  the  heathen,  he  sat  down  and  presented 
the  tooth  to  them,  begging  that  we  might 
live,  and  that  there  might  be  no  fighting. 
And  when  the  chiefs  had  heard  his  words, 
they  drew  off  their  men  to  a  distance,  and  sat 
down  holding  a  council. 

"  After    a    while   two  old   chiefs   from  the 


lo6      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

heathen  war-party  came  to  me  bringing  with 
them  a  whale's  tooth  as  a  token  of  peace  ;  and 
sitting  down  before  me  in  my  house,  they 
kissed  my  hands,  sniffing  at  them,  after  our 
fashion  in  Fiji  and  Tonga,  one  taking  one 
hand,  and  one  the  other. 

"  '  Joel,'  said  they,  *  we  know  this  day  that 
you  are  a  true  man,  and  that  your  God  is  a 
great  Gcd,  Wonderful  are  the  things  which 
we  have  seen  to-day,  for  there  was  rage  in  our 
hearts,  and  it  was  in  our  minds  to  kill  you  all ; 
but  when  we  came  to  where  you  were  sitting 
in  silence  on  the  ground,  all  the  strength 
departed  from  our  hands,  and  we  could  do 
nothing  against  you.  It  is  you,  Joel,  who 
have  saved  us  alive.  If  we  had  killed  you,  it 
would  have  been  shedding  our  own  blood,  for 
are  not  all  your  people  our  kinsfolk?  There- 
fore are  we  sent  to  ask  pardon  for  our  anger, 
to  thank  you  for  your  long-suffering,  and  to 
tell  you  that  we  shall  never  forget  your  love 
to  us.  Let  this  tooth  of  a  fish  be  the  burying 
of  all  ill-will  between  us.  Know  this,  more- 
over, that  if  any  man  hereafter  does  you  any 
harm,  he  shall  be  clubbed,  whosoever  he  be, 
and  an  oven  shall  be  his  grave.' " 


Communion.  107 


CHAPTER   VI. 

COMMUNION.  —  CONTINUED. 

THE    NINETY-FIRST    PSALM. 
"  Because  thou  hast  made  the  Lord  .  .  .  thy  habitation." 

Here,  again,  the  blessedness  is  his,  and 
only  his,  who  finds  his  home  in  God.  "  The 
Most  High  thy  habitation."  Where  do  we 
live  ?  Where  the  heart  is.  And  where  is  the 
heart }  For  the  heart  ever  draws  with  it  all 
else.  The  thoughts  loosed  from  other  things 
do  surely  gravitate  to  the  home  of  the  heart. 
Where,  then,  is  thy  heart  ?  for  there  is  thy 
home.  Is  it  in  the  business  ?  Do  the  thoughts 
go  of  their  own  accord,  and  because  they  are 
free,  away  to  the  planning,  and  purchasing, 
and  counting  up  of  profit  ?  Is  it  in  the  life  of 
pleasure  that  is  being  arranged  for  ?  Is  it 
away  with  the  children,  and  amid  home 
cares?  Of  course  the  thoughts  must  visit 
these  things,  and  spend  whole  days  with  them, 
exactly   as  a  man    goes   away  to  work ;   but 


io8       Some   Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

then,  when  the  work  is  over,  he  goes  home. 
Do  we  find  our  home  in  these  things,  sending 
our  thoughts  on  errands  up  to  God  for  bless- 
ing, and  guidance,  and  care,  and  then  coming 
back  to  these  again  as  the  home  of  the  heart  ? 
Or  do  we  visit  these  things  only,  and  then 
take  them  with  us  to  find  our  home  in  God — 
to  lie  down  in  his  care;  and  to  draw  all 
about  us  and  ours  the  glorious  safety  of  his 
presence  ? 

We  go  home  without  arrangement :  we 
plan  our  visits  and  then  go  home  because 
they  are  over.  Duty,  want,  a  host  of  things, 
lead  us  forth  elsewhere  ;  but  the  heart  takes 
us  home.  Blessed,  most  blessed,  is  he  whose 
thoughts  pass  up  to  God  not  because  they  are 
driven  like  a  fisherman's  craft  swept  by  the 
fierceness  of  the  storm;  not  because  they  are 
forced  by  want  or  fear  ;  not  because  they  are 
led  by  the  hand  of  duty,  but  because  God  is 
his  habitation  and  his  home.  Loosed  from 
other  things,  the  thoughts  go  home  for  rest. 
In  God  the  blessed  man  finds  the  love  that 
welcomes  ;  there  is  the  sunny  place,  there  care 
is  loosed  and  toil  forgotten,  there  is  the 
joyous  freedom,    the   happy    calm,   the    rest, 


Communion.  109 

and  renewing  of  our  strength — at  home  with 
God. 

"  There  shall  no  evil  befall  thee."  How  can 
it  ?  Trust  in  God  makes  us  conquerors  over 
sin,  and  turns  all  other  evil  into  good.  It  is 
only  because  we  do  not  take  all  things  as 
from  God,  permitted  by  his  love  and  wisdom 
and  controlled  by  his  power,  that  we  can 
think  of  ill  in  any  thing.  That  cannot  be  an 
evil  which  does  a  man  good,  nor  that  a  loss 
which  brings  him  gain,  nor  that  a  grief  which 
crowns  him  with  new  kingliness  and  power 
for  further  conquest.  To  him  who  trusts  in 
God,  adversity  carries  in  its  bony  hand  the 
golden  gifts  of  patience  and  courage ;  and 
pain  itself  ennobles  with  endurance  and 
refines  with  the  sweet  graces  of  submission. 
That  he  who  loves  us  with  so  wise  and  infinite 
a  love  permits  what  comes  transforms  it  into 
good.  Blessed  indeed  is  he  who  learns  to 
find  in  the  dungeon  the  hid  treasures  of  dark- 
ness ;  and  in  the  deep  waters  the  pearls  that 
shall  enrich  and  deck  us  through  eternity. 

So  then,*  soul,  be  not  hasty  in  setting  up  thy 
judgment  as  to  what  is  good  or  evil.  Life's 
vexations  come  not  so  much  from  evil  things 


1 10       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

as  from  an  evil  heart,  that  knows  not  what  is 
good,  and  frets  because  its  fooHsh  fancies  do 
not  find  indulgence.  No  wisely  loving  father 
would  let  his  little  one  decide  as  to  life's 
good  and  evil  things — or  where  would  lessons 
be,  and  the  discipline  that  fits  for  manhood  ? 
We,  dimly  seeing  at  the  best,  see  far  enough 
to  choose  for  them.  Let  our  Father,  gracious 
and  all-seeing,  choose  for  us.  That  which  he 
sends  is  only  good,  and  the  fancied  good  that 
he  sends  not  we  are  better  without.  Our 
truest,  fullest  and  deepest  good — life's  very 
best — is  to  let  him  have  his  own  way  with  us 
perfectly,  and  life's  only  evil  is  to  resent,  to 
hinder,  to  mistake  his  will  ;  forever  stands 
the  cross  of  Christ,  the  great  assurance  of  a 
love  that  nothing  can  gainsay — a  love  that  is 
all  ours,  and  ours  in  every  thing.  Of  this  be 
sure  :  if  we  could  see  all  things  as  our  Father 
sees  them,  we  should  bless  him  for  doing  as 
he  does.  When  the  day  breaks  and  the 
shadows  flee  away  we  shall  see  it  all,  and  then 
will  we  make  it  the  theme  of  heaven's  music. 
Till  then  we  will  rest  in  his  love.  He  is  ours, 
and  we  are  his  ;  and  his  joy  is  ever  in  our 
blessedness. 


Communion.  1 1 1 

"  For  he  shall  give  his  angels  charge  over 
thee,  to  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways.  They 
shall  bear  thee  up  in  their  hands,  lest  thou 
dash  thy  foot  against  a  stone." 

So,  then,  do  not  fear  to  go  down  from  this 
high  mount  of  the  Lord  to  thy  ways  in  the 
world  no  matter  how  commonplace  and  dull 
they  may  be,  whether  rough  or  smooth,  whether 
lonely  or  crowded  ;  though  busied  with  com- 
mon wants,  burdened  with  common  cares,  go 
forth  with  a  brave  heart  and  an  earnest  soul 
into  thy  ways  in  the  daily  life ;  thy  commun- 
ion with  God  is  not  to  make  thee  too  digni- 
fied for  walking  in  the  by-ways  of  life,  even 
over  stony  roads.  Rather  shall  that  commun- 
ion make  these  common  places  dignified 
indeed  by  his  regard,  and  by  the  escort  he 
sends  with  thee,  even  as  his  presence  and  the 
angels  made  the  stony  Bethel  of  old  into  a 
very  gate  of  heaven.  He  turns  the  very  highest 
good  to  evil  who  suffers  heavenly-mindedness 
to  make  him  indolent  or  careless  in  minding 
his  duty  upon  earth — which,  if  we  but  think  of 
it  rightly,  is  but  another  name  for  dishonesty, 
cheating  both  God  and  the  neighbor.  Com- 
munion with  God  is  the  fittest  preparation  for 


1 1 2        Souic  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

all  that  a  man  can  have  to  do  in  the  world  ; 
and  doing  well  and  thoroughly  whatever  must 
be  done  is  the  fittest  preparation  for  further 
communion.  He  who  bids  us  leave  the  gift 
on  the  altar  and  be  reconciled  to  our  brother 
would  have  us  go  back  and  be  reconciled  to 
any  duty  with  which  we  may  have  quarreled. 
Saul's  sacrifice  is  undone  by  the  bleating  and 
bellowing  without  ;  it  intrudes  upon  the  holy 
service  and  disturbs  it.  So  into  God's  ears 
comes  the  clamor  of  every  work  undone,  half- 
done,  ill-done,  and  jars  upon  the  hour  of  prayer. 
However  near  to  heaven  we  may  dwell,  it  is 
to  fit  us  for  perfect  service  in  all  our  ways  on 
earth.  If  God's  angels  go  with  thee,  soul,  see 
that  thy  life  be  in  keeping  with  thy  company. 
He  who  walks  with  courtiers  is  careful  to  be 
courteous,  and  suits  his  very  attire  and  his 
whole  demeanor  accordingly.  The  angels 
claim  for  their  High  Master's  sake  that  in 
every  thing  we  be  faithful,  and  patient,  and 
brotherly ;  not  over-eager  for  the  world,  as 
having  our  treasure  in  him  ;  and  yet  not  de- 
spising it,  as  belonging  to  him.  Count  no  duty 
too  little,  no  round  of  life  too  small,  no  work 
too  low  if  it  come  in  thy  way,  since  God  thinks 


Communion.  1 1 3 

so  much  of  it  as  to  send  his  angels  to  guard 
thee  in  it  ;  and  be  sure  thou  dost  not  murmur 
at  thy  way,  or  think  it  a  hard  one,  if  the  holy 
angels  are  willing  to  go  with  thee.  Thy  mur- 
murings  will  be  but  an  ill  accompaniment  for 
their  music. 

"  They  shall  bear  thee  up  in  their  hands." 
It  is  another  token  of  God's  gracious  care 
concerning  us  and  our  safety.  His  angels — 
think  how  at  times  the  presence  of  some  one 
of  these  mighty  messengers  of  God  has  flashed 
from  behind  the  veil,  and  earth  has  trembled 
at  their  mighty  power.  David  sings  of  the 
angels  as  those  that  do  excel  in  strength. 
Remember  how  the  first-born  of  Egypt  was 
smitten  in  every  home,  and  how  the  proud 
hosts  of  Assyria  fell  dead  in  the  night.  Be 
bold,  then,  if  these  are  thy  body-guard. 

And  yet  the  promise  has  its  limits:  "in  all 

thy  ways."     The  tempter  chose  this  text  to 

feather  his  fiery  dart  when  he  assailed  the  Son 

of  God,  but  he  must  needs  strip  it  and  trim  it 

for  his  purpose.     He  put  the  full  stop  so  as  to 

shutout  all   reference  to  "  thy  ways."     If  we 

go  out  of  our  way  we   go   alone ;  the  angels 

leave  us  then  to  stumble  on  as  best  we  can,  or 
8 


1 14       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

it  may  be  they  array  themselves  to  hinder  us : 
as  when  Balaam  went  out  of  his  way  and  there 
stood  against  him  the  angel  of  the  Lord,  hav- 
ing his  sword  drawn  in  his  hand,  and  so  it 
came  to  pass  that  Balaam's  foot  was  dashed 
"against  a  stone."  How,  then,  may  we  keep 
in  our  way?  When  the  starting-place  is  the 
Father's  presence,  the  secret  place  of  the  Most 
High;  when  we  have  talked  of  the  way  with 
him  who  ordereth  our  steps,  and  come  forth 
taught  of  the  Lord  ;  when  our  purpose  is  in 
all  things  to  please  and  honor  him  ;  when, 
whichever  way  we  go,  our  hearts  are  set  on 
getting  back  to  him  again  as  the  end  of  our 
way — then  we  are  not  likely  to  go  astray. 

"  His  angels."  Of  course  it  means,  first  and 
most  of  all,  those  ministering  spirits  who  are 
sent  forth  from  the  throne  of  God  ;  but  not 
those  only.  He  gives  all  things  ''charge  con- 
cerning" his  children  as  his  messengers  and 
ministers.  "  He  maketh  his  angels  winds,  and 
his  ministers  a  flame  of  fire  ;"  the  stormy  blasts 
and  fierce  flames,  the  very  forces  of  destruction 
are  among  his  angels.  It  is  the  truth  in  which 
St.  Paul  perpetually  triumphs  :  "  All  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God." 


Communion.  1 1 5 

As  we  have  dwelt  upon  the  wonderful  kind- 
ness and  tender  care  that  are  revealed  in  this 
psalm,  we  may  well  have  begun  to  fear  lest 
such  love  should  spoil  us.  So  screened  and 
guarded,  what  opportunity  is  there  for  the 
nobleness  that  is  born  of  endurance ;  for  the 
courage  that  comes  of  peril ;  for  the  hardier 
virtues?  Fear  not;  because  our  God  loveth 
us  so  well,  he  loveth  us  most  wisely.  Tenderly 
indeed  does  he  care  for  his  children,  yet  he 
knows  how  to  train  them  as  his  heroes  and 
kings.  Here  is  the  heroism  :  "  Thou  shalt 
tread  upon  the  lion  and  adder:  the  young 
lion  and  the  dragon  shalt  thou  trample  under 
feet."  The  lion,  that  is,  the  monster  that 
comes  against  us  in  sheer  force  of  strength, 
thou  hast  in  God  a  power  to  rend  him  even  as 
did  Samson  of  old.  The  serpent — the  hidden 
peril  that  lurks  and  creeps  and  springs  una- 
wares upon  its  prey ;  the  subtle  sin  like  that 
before  which  Samson  fell — thou  hast  in  God  a 
power  to  trample  this,  too,  under  foot. 
Strength  and  watchfulness  and  wisdom  are 
ours  and  ours  perfectly,  in  his  presence  and 
help. 

It  seems  strange  that  he  should  deliver  u 


1 1 6     Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

from  the  snare  of  the  fowler,  and  yet  should 
suffer  us  to  meet  the  Hon  and  the  dragon. 
Herein  let  us  take  much  comfort.  Our  God 
knoweth  what  temptations  to  deliver  us  from  ; 
and  he  knoweth  what  temptations  to  give  us 
the  victory  over.  Think  of  it,  soul,  and  sing 
of  it  as  one  of  the  things  thou  hast  to  be 
thankful  for — the  snares  we  never  knew  of; 
the  baffled  plans  of  the  tempter ;  the  subtle 
purposes  that  were  defeated  ;  the  fiery  darts  of 
the  wicked  one  that  our  watchful  Lord  turned 
aside  while  we  slept.  Of  Satan  also  it  is  true 
that  he  proposes  and  God  disposes.  And  now 
if  against  us  there  come  any  trial,  any  suffer- 
ing, any  sorrow,  any  threatening  evil,  in  this 
let  us  find  hope  and  strength  :  God  could  have 
delivered  us  from  it ;  that  he  hath  not  so  de- 
livered us  is  the  very  pledge  and  assurance 
that  he  will  make  us  more  than  conquerors 
over  it.  He  knows  the  measure  of  our  foe  ;  he 
knows  the  measure  of  our  strength.  Fear  not. 
Brave  men  of  old  believed  that  the  strength 
of  the  vanquished  became  the  added  strength 
of  the  victor,  and  thus  he  went  from  conquer- 
ing to  conquer.  It  is  true  to  the  full  of  every 
conflict  of  the  soul.     By  conflicts  like  these 


Communion.  117 

our  God  develops  us:  teaching  us  thus  of  our- 
selves, of  our  needs  and  weakness  ;  teaching  us, 
too,  of  himself,  of  his  watchfulness  and  might ; 
and  thus  he  fits  us  for  further  and  loftier  service, 
and  such  conflicts  and  victories  as  these  are 
the  material  of  which  heaven's  songs  are  made. 
The  shouts  of  victory  come  only  of  the  battle. 
Let  this,  then,  be  our  watchword — it  is  a  prom- 
ise which  we  may  bear  as  our  shield  and  buck- 
ler :  Thou  shalt  tread  upon  the  lion  and  the 
adder.  Whatever  threatens  now — fierce  foe, 
or  trying  circumstance,  or  subtle  temptation — 
fear  none  of  them.  Only  fear  thyself,  thy 
weakness,  and  thy  folly ;  and  let  that  fear 
keep  thee  near  to  him  who  is  thy  stronghold  ; 
there  shall  no  evil  befall  thee. 

Then  come  words  so  wonderful  that  we 
almost  fear  to  speak  of  them.  Our  poor 
thoughts  can  scarcely  reach  up  to  them,  and 
still  less  can  our  shallow  language  hold  their 
fullness.  We  want  a  new  power  of  utterance 
for  truths  like  these.  As  the  telephone  anni- 
hilates distance,  so  do  we  need  a  cardiphone, 
an  instrument  by  which  heart  might  speak  to 
heart  without  the  chilling  diversion  of  our 
words.     It  is  good  to  think  of  the  Holy  Spirit 


1 1 8        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

as  such  a  power  ;  revealing  the  love  of  God  not 
as  a  thought,  a  theory,  not  in  word  only,  but 
as  an  inwrought  possession :  ''  the  love  of 
God  shed  abroad  in  the  heart  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  given  unto  us."  Let  us  ask  for  his 
grace  and  power  as  we  seek  to  enter  into  this 
mystery  of  love. 

"  Because  he  hath  set  his  love  upon  me, 
therefore  will  I  deliver  him :  I  will  set  him  on 
high,  because  he  hath  known  my  name.'' 

There  is  an  amazing  boldness  in  these  words, 
boldness  that  could  belong  only  to  the  man 
who  has  hidden  in  the  secret  place,  and  who 
has  looked  forth  upon  all  his  goodness.  We 
hear  the  most  High  God  talking  over  his  pur- 
pose concerning  his  child.  We  know  what  it 
is  to  think  over  our  plans  for  our  children,  and 
to  see  what  we  can  do  for  them  ;  but  if  our 
power  were  only  one  with  our  will,  what  should 
we  do  for  them  then  ?  Here  it  is  so  ;  perfect 
love  plans,  while  perfect  power  waits  to  carry 
out  the  purpose.  My  soul,  think  how  thy  God 
longs  to  have  thee  utterly  and  altogether  as 
his  own,  that  he  may  see  fulfilled  in  thee  his 
largest  desires. 

"  I  will  deliver  him."     Perfect  safety  is  our 


Coninmnion.  119 

first  blessing,  the  blessing  of  Benjamin — "The 
beloved  of  the  Lord  shall  dwell  in  safety  by 
him  ;  and  the  Lord  Jehovah  shall  cover  him 
all  the  day  long."  My  soul,  lie  down  in  the 
assurance  of  safety  pledged  by  all  these  prom- 
ises, for  now  is  it  the  delight  of  his  love  to 
deliver  thee.  There  is  none  like  unto  the  God 
of  Jeshurun,  who  rideth  upon  the  heaven  in 
thy  help,  and  in  his  excellency  on  the  sky. 
The  eternal  God  is  thy  refuge,  and  underneath 
thee  are  the  everlasting  arms.  Who  is  like 
unto  thee,  O  people,  saved  by  the  Lord  ! 

"  I  will  set  him  on  high  because  he  hath 
known  my  name."  How  high  is  that  which 
God  counts  high  ?  Measure  by  this  the  vast- 
ness  of  his  purposes  concerning  us.  That  on 
which  the  heart  is  set  shall  be  the  heart's  pos- 
session and  resting-place,  and  God  himself 
shall  be  our  glorious  satisfaction. 

"  He  shall  call  upon  me,  and  I  will  answer 
him."  Love  may  sleep  through  the  wild 
howling  of  the  winds  and  roll  of  thunder,  or 
amid  the  hubbub  of  the  city  and  its  roar  of 
traffic.  But  let  the  little  one  wake  with  but 
the  faint  beginning  of  a  cry,  and  the  mother's 
love  springs  up  with  eagerness.     And,  quick 


120      Souie  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

to  answer  as  to  hear — "  He  shall  call  upon 
me,  and  I  will  answer  him." 

"  I  will  be  with  him  in  trouble,"  What 
springs  of  precious  consolation  lie  in  these 
words !  That  saying  is  true :  "  Trouble 
never  comes  single  ;  "  every  trouble  brings 
God  with  it  —  as  of  old  time,  when  men 
believed  that  where  the  poison  grew  there 
grew  its  antidote  beside  it,  ever  ready  with 
its  healing.  "  I  will  be  with  him."  Our  gra- 
cious God  comes  ever  with  his  own  consola- 
tion.    He  himself  is  our  Comforter. 

When  we  can  go  on  our  ways  he  gives  his 
angels  charge  concerning  us — just  as  the 
mother  bids  the  nursemaid  take  care  of  the 
little  one  ;  to  keep  it  out  of  winds,  and  find 
the  sunny  path,  and  to  avoid  the  perils  of  the 
crowded  streets.  But  to-night  the  cheek  is 
flushed,  the  head  droops,  the  eyes  are  heavy, 
the  hot  breaths  come  and  go  quickly  ;  and 
now  the  little  one  can  find  no  rest  but  in  the 
mother's  arms,  and  the  only  soothing  is  in  the 
sound  of  her  voice  and  the  touch  of  her  gentle 
hand.  "  I  will  be  with  the  little  one  to- 
night," says  the  mother.  Even  so  tender  and 
pitiful  is  our  God.     "  I  will  be  with   him  in 


Commii7iio)i.  121 

trouble."  The  angels  may  protect  and  minis- 
ter in  a  thousand  gracious  ways,  but  trouble 
makes  us  so  sacred  that  God  himself  comes 
then  to  soothe  and  cheer  us. 

"  I  will  deliver  him,  and  honor  him."  Think- 
again,  what  is  that  which  God  counts  honor? 
Think  how  God  looks  down  on  our  courtly 
shows  and  pageants  —  so  short-lived  ;  with 
burdened  hearts  beneath  the  splendid  robes, 
and  a  thousand  common  wants  ;  seeing  the 
sorrow  and  the  strife  that  lie  behind  it  all  ; 
the  dust  and  darkness  on  to  which  it  all  is 
passing.  What,  then,  is  the  honor  that  God 
gives  ?  How  lofty,  how  real,  how  abiding ! 
Be  ambitious,  soul,  and  carry  thyself  as  one 
for  whom  such  great  things  are  in  store. 

"  With  long  life  will  I  satisfy  him."  Satisfy. 
That  is  God's  own  word,  that  none  else  can 
use  rightly.  The  life  that  satisfies  must  have 
depth,  and  height,  and  breadth  ;  and  now  to 
these  God  promises  this  also — length  of  days. 
"  I  will  show  him  my  salvation  " — be  showing 
him  my  salvation.  The  idea  seems  to  be  of 
that  which  God  shall  be  opening  up  to  us 
through  the  ages,  for  ever  and  for  ever  unfold- 
ing it.     Think  of  Moses  climbing  the  mount, 


122       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

while  at  every  point  some  new  beauty  of  the 
goodly  Canaan  opens  before  him — the  plains 
dotted  with  the  flocks  that  lie  down  in  green 
pastures,  the  hill-sides  terraced  with  the  vine- 
yards, the  valleys  covered  with  the  golden 
corn,  the  homesteads  screened  by  leafy  shelter 
from  the  noontide  heat.  And  as  Moses  looks 
forth  upon  the  vast  expanse  we  can  think 
how  all  his  heart  yearned  for  another  land  of 
promise,  a  place  of  rest  and  peace.  There 
fell  upon  him  tenderly  the  voice  that  bade 
him  "  Come  up  higher."  And  he  passed  up 
to  the  mount  of  the  Lord,  to  look  forth  upon 
the  fuller  beauty  and  the  richer  blessedness 
of  the  heavenly  Canaan,  and  to  find  it  all  his 
own.  So  let  us  think  of  heights  for  us,  too, 
leading  on  to  further  heights — possessions 
which  by  our  very  use  and  enjoyment  of 
them  develop  new  faculties  and  other  powers  ; 
and  by  and  by  for  the  new  fitness  there  waits 
a  new  possession,  up  to  which  our  God  leads 
us.  "  My  child,"  he  saith,  "all  this  is  thine." 
And  so  again  the  new  inheritance  ;  and  yet 
again  the  new  development,  the  further 
growth,  the  .  unfolding  of  fresh  capacities, 
until  again,  far  on  in  the  ages,  it  is  spoken: 


Conuminion.  123 

"  Come  up  higher ;  this  is  thine."  Then, 
wondering  at  such  unwearied  love,  we  ask 
amazed :  "  Gracious  Father,  will  thy  love 
never  be  satisfied  ?  "  And  the  answer  comes  : 
**  Never,  my  child,  never.  My  love  to  thee  is 
infinite." 


124      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MY   LORD   AND   MY   GOD. 
ST.  JOHN  XX,  28. 

He  has  not  entered  into  the  mystery  of 
the  blessed  hfe  who  has  not  learned  to  say  this 
with  all  the  strength  of  mind  and  heart.  "  My 
Lord  and  my  God."  We  must  know  Christ 
the  Lord  as  our  own,  our  very  own,  taking 
him  all  to  ourselves.  My  Lord,  in  perfect  fit- 
ness and  correspondence  to  my  nature  and  my 
wants.  My  Lord,  in  the  constancy  of  his 
presence  with  me,  and  in  the  completeness  of 
his  help.  My  Lord,  in  the  fullness  of  his 
claim  upon  my  love  and  faith  and  service. 
My  Lord,  in  my  appropriating  him,  having 
and  holding  him  as  wholly  mine.  Let  us 
muse  upon  this  until  the  fire  kindle — how  the 
gracious  Lord  comes  to  each  of  us  in  the 
distinctness  of  our  character  and  in  the  sep- 
arateness  of  our  circumstances,  and  teaches  us 
each  to  say,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God." 


My  Lord  and  my  God.  125 

What  have  we  until  we  have  learned  to  say 
this  ? 

Think  of  Thomas  the  disciple,  the  apostle — 
Saint'Thomas,  if  you  will ;  yet,  so  long  as  he 
stopped  short  of  this,  his  high  position  and 
privilege  availed  him  nothing.  We  envy  him 
his  knowledge  of  the  Lord ;  the  look,  the 
tones,  the  manner,  the  words,  the  doings,  all 
were  vivid  in  his  mind.  Yet  all  these  memories 
only  confused  and  bewildered  him  as  he  looked 
back  upon  them.  He  knew  all  about  Jesus,  but 
that  knowledge  left  him  lonely  and  despair- 
ing. He  moved  as  in  a  dream  ;  with  all  things 
wrapped  in  mist.  His  soul  put  forth  trem- 
bling buds  of  hope,  and  then  an  icy  fear  swept 
over  him  and  all  was  dead  again.  Alas,  poor 
Thomas !  A  little  to  be  blamed  perhaps,  yet 
wholly  to  be  pitied.  Ah,  are  there  not  to-day 
hosts  of  men  and  women  like  him?  Men  and 
women  to  whom  Christ  is  only  a  Christ  that 
was  ;  they  treasure  his  story,  but  they  never 
know  his  presence.  He  is  a  memory  ;  a  text  for 
endless  sermons;  a  name  on  which  to  rest  our 
creeds  and  theories.  And  such  a  knowledge 
leaves  them  as  it  left  Thomas:  in  loneliness, 
in  fear,  haunted  ever  with  doubt  and  failure. 


126       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

But  think  of  Thomas  after  this  experience. 
He  has  put  forth  the  finger  and  touched  the 
wound-print.  He  has  thrust  his  hand  into 
that  sacred  side.  Then  all  the  heart  leaped  up 
and  cried,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God  !  "  Joyful 
assurance  like  a  tide  swept  and  surged  about 
his  soul,  filling  every  crevice  and  cranny  with 
triumph.  Every  perception,  every  faculty  of 
the  mind  was  filled  and  satisfied  by  that  vision 
of  the  Lord.  "  My  Lord."  Not  dead ;  him- 
self; and  now  so  much  more  than  he  was  be- 
fore !  He  has  overcome  death.  He  has  proved 
himself  triumphant  over  chief  priests  and 
Roman  soldiers.  He  has  conquered  the  pow- 
ers of  darkness ;  and  now  his  great  love, 
stronger  than  death  and  mightier  than  the 
grave,  brings  him  back  into  the  midst  of  his 
mourning  disciples.  "  My  Lord."  What  can- 
not he  do  !  Now  every  hope  lives  again.  Now 
is  every  dream  and  desire  of  the  soul  made  pos- 
sible. All  within  him  was  filled  and  thrilled 
and  fired  by  the  possession  of  such  a  Saviour. 
And  all  that  this  precious  Lord  is  the  disciple 
holds  as  his  own  ;  my  Lord  and  my  God. 

Now  that  is  where  the  Lord  seeks  to  bring 
each  one  of  us — right  up  to  the  point  of  this 


Afy  Lord  and  my  God.  127 

glad  possession.  Until  we  get  there  our  relig- 
ion cannot  but  be  a  sickly,  sunless  thing — little 
more  than  a  fear  and  a  failure.  But  think  of 
the  wealth  of  blessedness  that  is  ours  when 
the  heart  can  say,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God." 
Not  a  dead  Christ,  not  a  memory,  not  afar  off, 
but  the  Saviour  mine  ;  more  close  and  intimate 
and  constant  than  any  other  can  be.  My 
Lord,  revealing  himself  to  me  as  I  need  to 
know  him.  My  Lord,  gathering  to  himself  by 
the  constraint  of  his  love  all  my  love  as  his 
own  ;  teaching  me  to  find  the  brightness  of 
his  presence  in  all  the  common  things  of  life; 
teaching  me  to  bring  all  these  common  things 
into  his  service.  My  Lord,  by  such  amazing 
proofs  and  pledges  of  love.  My  Lord,  that  I 
may  find  a  heaven  of  rest  in  his  care,  a  heaven  of 
activity  in  his  service,  a  heaven  of  joy  in  his  pres- 
ence.    That  is  what  the  Lord  would  be  to  us. 

Now  the  Lord  brings  us  to  say  this. 

Nothing  would  have  been  easier  than  for 
Christ  to  have  attested  himself  to  be  the  Lord 
and  the  God.  How  splendid  a  triumph  might 
he  have  achieved  over  death  and  hell,  in  sight 
of  the  assembled  thousands  there,  on  Calvary ! 
Even  while  yet  he  hung  upon  the  cross,  think 


128      Sojne  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

how  that  very  cross  might  have  become  his 
throne  of  dazzHng  splendor,  arched  by  troops 
of  angels,  and  up  from  the  depths  came  death, 
discrowned  and  scepterless,  while  there,  before 
the  hosts  of  the  people,  hushed  and  terrified, 
he  might  have  stood  "  clothed  with  white 
raiment  and  girt  with  a  golden  girdle  ;  his  face 
like  the  sun  in  its  strength,  his  eyes  a  flame  of 
fire,"  while  with  a  great  voice  as  of  a  trumpet 
he  proclaims  himself,  "  I  am  he  that  liveth 
and  was  dead,  and,  behold,  I  am  alive  for 
evermore  ;  and  have  the  keys  of  hell  and  of 
death."  Then  Thomas  could  not  have  doubt- 
ed ;  then  Mary  could  not  have  wept.  Why 
not  thus?  Because  that  majesty  and  splendor 
would  never  have  won  the  glad  utterance, 
"  My  Lord  and  my  God."  That  awful  glory 
would  have  thrust  itself  in  between  the  Lord 
and  the  disciple;  it  would  have  silenced  and 
rebuked  the  tender  familiarity  that  took 
him  for  its  own.  "  I  fell  at  his  feet  as  dead," 
writes  St.  John,  when  thus  he  saw  the  Lord. 
No  ;  all  that  would  have  confirmed  their  faith 
in  him  as  the  Lord  and  the  God,  but  that 
never  could  have  led  to  this  exultant  posses- 
sion.    He  must  come  to  each,  separately  and 


My  Lord  and  my  God.  1 29 

apart,  for  that.  He  must  reveal  himself  as  a 
living  presence,  winning  his  way  perhaps  dif- 
ferently to  each  heart.  He  must  come  in  the 
still  hour  and  stand  knocking  and  entreating, 
"  Open  unto  me,  and  I  will  come  in  and  sup 
with  thee,"  In  such  direct  personal  com- 
munion, in  such  sweet  and  sacred  fellowship, 
in  such  contact  and  familiarity  with  him,  in 
such  giving  himself  to  us  as  our  own — thus 
and  thus  only  do  we  learn  to  say,  "  My  Lord 
and  my  God." 

In  Christ  there  is  the  perfected  humanity 
which  makes  him  one  with  every  man. 

Think  how  we  differ  among  ourselves. 
Think  of  differences  of  race,  of  nations  ;  think 
of  social  differences;  think  of  the  infinite  va- 
riety there  is  in  character.  Difference  in 
stature  is  a  measure  of  inches,  but  who  can 
measure  the  difference  in  souls?  Here  are 
possibilities  of  such  heights  and  depths  of 
endurance,  of  devotion,  of  love,  of  hatred,  of 
cruelty  ;  the  soul  can  soar  beyond  the  loftiest 
mountain  peak  and  sit  in  heavenly  places 
with  Christ  Jesus,  or  here  and  now  it  may  sink 
away  down  into  such  depths  that  no  nether- 
most hell  is  deeper  or  darker  or  hides  more 


130       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

dreadful  secrets  than  the  soul  may  do.  How 
are  we  shut  away  from  each  other  !  how  few 
we  ever  know,  and  how  few  know  us  !  Now 
and  then  we  foreigners  and  strangers  meet 
with  some  one  who  speaks  our  mother-tongue. 
We  understand  them  at  once,  instinctively, 
and  they  understand  us.  Then  there  is  fellow- 
ship. Fellow — it  implies  fitness  ;  co-respond- 
ence — it  answers  to  us  ;  and  some  inner  door 
of  the  heart  is  opened.  But  in  Jesus  Christ 
is  the  completed  human  nature  that  is  broken 
up  and  divided  among  us.  He  is  the  blessed 
Fellow-man  who  fits  us  every  one.  He  under- 
stands us  perfectly  and  answers  to  us.  He 
comes  to  each  of  us  as  none  other  can  ever 
come,  saying  :  "  I  am  thy  Friend,  thy  Brother. 
I  understand  thee,  and  can  come  and  be  at 
home  with  thee  in  the  innermost  chamber  of 
thine  heart."  Here  nationality  is  lost — there 
is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek.  Here  social  distinc- 
tions cease  to  divide — there  is  neither  bond  nor 
free.  Here  external  conditions  vanish — there  is 
neither  circumcision  nor  uncircumcision.  Here 
natural  divisions  no  longer  separate — there  is 
neither  male  nor  female.  Look  at  Christ  in  con- 
tact with  individual  cases.     Take,  for  instance, 


My  Lord  and  my  God.  131 

the  case  of  the  disciples,  and  see  how  he  led 
them  one  by  one  to  himself.  They  were  very 
unlike  each  other.  Thomas  and  Peter  were  as 
wide  asunder  as  the  poles  :  Peter,  swift,  impul- 
sive, rash;  Thomas,  slow,  hesitating,  and  doubt- 
ful, they  saw  things  very  differently.  In  those 
disputes  which  arose  between  them  sometimes, 
it  is  easy  to  see  that  each  of  these  would  say 
of  the  other,  "  I  cannot  understand  him." 
Thomas  must  have  often  wished  that  Peter 
would  not  talk  so  much.  And  Peter  must 
have  often  thought  Thomas  dreadfully  re- 
served. Yet  each  could  come  to  say  perfectly, 
*'  My  Lord  and  my  God."  Then  there  was  John, 
looking  into  the  heart  of  things  and  seeing 
them  at  a  glance.  How  different  from  Philip, 
who  needed  to  have  things  made  very  plain 
before  he  could  see  them  at  all  !  Now  look 
at  the  all-wise  Master  dealing  with  these, 
bringing  them  each  one  to  himself  just  accord- 
ing to  their  separate  characters.  John  was 
ever  the  see-er.  His  emblem  was  of  old  the 
eagle,  soaring  upward,  gazing  on  the  sun.  His 
testimony  is  always  of  that  which  he  has  seen. 
"I  John  saw  "  is  the  phrase  which  is  ever  on 
his  lips.     How  does  the  Lord  Jesus  meet  this 


132      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

see-er?  One  day  about  ten  o'clock — for  John 
sees  the  time  as  he  sees  all  else — Jesus  is  walk- 
ing in  the  distance.  The  Baptist  points  this 
disciple  of  his  to  the  Saviour,  and  says,  "  See 
the  Lamb  of  God."  Then  John  followed 
Jesus.  Presently  those  eyes  met ;  the  blessed 
Master  turning  and  looking  down  into  the 
depths  of  the  soul.  "  Whom  seekest  thou  ?  " 
asked  Jesus.  "  Master,  where  dwellest  thou  ?  " 
cries  the  eager  disciple.  "  Come  and  see,"  said 
Jesus.  And  he  abode  with  him  that  day. 
Now  Andrew  has  gone  in  search  of  Simon, 
and  tells  him,  "  We  have  found  the  Christ." 
And  as  Simon  comes  with  parted  lips,  swift  to 
speak,  Jesus  does  not  ask  him  a  question.  He 
knows  Peter's  hasty  speech.  Jesus  greets  him 
with  words  that  bewilder  him  into  silence — 
words  which  perhaps  came  back  long  after- 
ward, when  hope  had  nearly  gone  out,  and 
helped  to  kindle  it  afresh,  "  Thou  art  Simon 
the  son  of  Jona :  thou  shalt  be  called  Cephas, 
A  stone."  And  remembering  those  eyes 
which  searched  him  then,  it  may  well  have 
been  that  long  afterward — as  he  turned  to  meet 
that  same  gaze,  greeted  by  that  same  name, 
Simon,  son  of  Jonas — the  memory   of  these 


My  Lord  and  my  God.  1 3  3 

words  came  back  to  prompt  the  reply,  "Lord, 
thou  knowest  all  things  ;  thou  knowest  that  I 
love  thee." 

Then  comes  Philip.  He  was  a  man  diffident ; 
never  the  man  to  lead ;  needing  a  show  of 
authority  —  a  man  who  would  falter  over  an 
invitation,  while  he  would  promptly  obey  a 
command.  As  Jesus  comes  with  John  and 
Andrew  and  Simon  he  feels  there  is  proof 
enough  to  satisfy  him,  and  to  him  is  spoken 
the  word  exactly  adapted  to  his  character. 
Brief,  tender,  authoritative,  the  command  is 
given,  "  Follow  me." 

Then  there  is  Nathanael — thoughtful,  spir- 
itual, meditative.  He  lightly  passes  by  the 
word  of  Philip  :  "  Nazareth !  nay,  no  good 
thing  ever  came  out  of  Nazareth."  No  curi- 
osity prompts  him  to  go  forth  and  see.  He 
must  have  more  than  a  command.  Christ 
meets  him  at  once,  right  away,  in  the  depths 
of  his  spirit  :  "  Before  that  Philip  called  thee, 
when  thou  wert  under  the  fig  tree,  I  saw  thee  " 
— when  thou  wert  reading  the  Scriptures  and 
seeking  guidance  concerning  these  things, 
my  Spirit  met  thine.  Then  all  Nathanael's 
soul  went  out  to  Christ  in  adoring  confidence: 


134       Sotnc  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

"  Thou  art  the  Son  of  God ;  thou  art  the  King 
of  Israel !  " 

lake  another  illustration  of  this  truth  :  that 
wherever  Christ  went  he  made  every  sufferer 
feel  that  he  could  do  exactly  what  each  needed. 
At  once,  instinctively,  every  needy  one  felt, 
"  He  can  help  me;"  and  each  came  to  know 
him  as  mf  Lord,  ;;//  Friend,  7uj/  Healer. 

Here  is  the  leper;  a  hopeless  case  if  ever 
there  was  one.  Incurable,  and  much  more  than 
that ;  making  the  sufferer  to  be  abhorred  and 
dreaded.  But  a  passing  glimpse  of  that  face, 
the  sound  of  that  voice  borne  on  the  breeze, 
was  enough.  All  within  him  felt  that  here 
was  the  very  help  he  wanted.  Watching  his 
opportunity,  he  springs  from  his  hiding-place 
and  falls  at  the  Master's  feet.  "  If  thou  wilt, 
thou  canst  make  me  clean."  Here  is  Jairus, 
the  ruler  of  the  synagogue.  All  hope  of  the 
little  maiden's  life  has  ebbed  away;  death 
steals  over  the  threshold,  and  who  can  stay 
him?  Yet  even  in  so  desperate  case  Jarius 
cannot  doubt.  "  Come  and  lay  thine  hand 
upon  her,  and  she  shall  live."  There  is  the 
poor  woman  whose  twelve  years  of  suffering 
might  well  have  crushed  all  hope.     But  as  she 


My  Lord  and  my  God.  135 

thinks  of  him,  hope  at  once  springs  up  ag?iin. 
"  If  I  can  but  touch  the  hem  of  his  garment, 
I  shall  be  made  whole."  Here  are  the  disci- 
ples tossed  upon  the  sea  amid  blustering  winds 
and  threatening  waves,  and  the  storm  growing 
more  furious.  Why  wake  Jesus?  Sailors 
have  little  faith  in  the  skill  of  landsmen  ;  they 
can  handle  an  oar,  and  manage  the  helm,  and 
take  in  a  reef.  They  felt  instinctively,  irresist- 
ibly, that  he  could  help  them.  And  up  he 
rose  against  that  stormy  sky  and  amid  those 
tumbling  seas,  "  Peace,  be  still."  And  in- 
stantly the  winds  and  waves  sank  down, 
abashed  that  they  should  have  dealt  so  roughly 
with  the  Lord. 

Once,  and  only  once,  there  came  one  with 
some  doubt  ;  with  a  word  of  hesitancy,  as  if 
not  quite  sure  that  Jesus  could  help  him.  It 
was  the  case  of  the  man  vvho  went  to  the 
disciples  before  he  found  Jesus,  and  who 
got  his  heart  chilled  and  his  faith  dimmed  by 
their  failure.  He  spoke  with  a  faltering,  "  If 
Thou  canst  do  any  thing."  At  once  Jesus 
took  his  "  if"  and  put  it  where  only  it  ever 
can  be — in  us,  not  in  him ;  "  If  thou  canst  be- 
lieve." 


136       Sotne  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

Again,  see  how  the  Lord  deals  with  the 
two  who  come  before  us  in  this  chapter — 
Mary  Magdalene  and  Thomas.  In  the  one 
case  that  is  expressly  bidden  which  in  the 
other  case  is  expressly  forbidden.  She  who 
would  touch,  must  not.  He  who  would  not, 
may.  Look  at  the  two  cases.  Mary  Magda- 
lene lingers  in  the  garden  blinded  by  her 
grief.  There  before  her  stands  the  risen  Lord, 
but  she  thinks  it  is  the  gardener.  If  the 
Saviour  cannot  reach  her  heart  in  one  way, 
he  will  seek  another  ;  and  if  the  eye  know 
him  not,  he  will  appeal  to  the  ear.  He  speaks 
to  her  with  the  old  familiar  tone  of  love. 
"  Mary  !  "  At  once  she  is  at  his  feet  with  joy- 
ful adoration.  "  My  Master  !  "  "  Touch  me 
not,"  said  Jesus.  "  I  am  not  yet  ascended  to 
my  Father."  It  meant  the  tenderest  care 
for  her — as  if  he  said :  "  Already  at  my 
going  thine  heart  has  been  broken  ;  and  now 
to  know  me  again  in  any  bodily  presence  will 
be  only  to  renew  thy  grief.  Wait  until  I 
ascend  to  my  Father ;  and  then,  when  the 
Holy  Ghost  is  given,  thou  shalt  know  me 
in  a  deep,  abiding,  spiritual  union  that  shall 
never  be  broken."    But  to  Thomas  the  word  is, 


My  Lord  and  my  God.  137 

"  Reach  hither  thy  finger ;  stretch  forth 
thine  hand."  He  is  of  another  material  ; 
that  bodily  contact  shall  help  the  spiritual 
union.  Then  as  the  finger  rested  on  that 
wound-print,  and  as  the  hand  was  laid  against 
that  sacred  side,  all  his  soul  exulted  in  con- 
scious possession  of  the  risen  Saviour — "  My 
Lord  and  my  God  !  " 

Do  not  think  that  all  this  was  possible  for 
those  early  disciples,  and  for  those  sufferers  of 
old,  in  some  easier  way  than  it  is  for  us  to-day. 
Do  not  think  for  a  moment  that  this  conscious 
personal  possession  was  made  easier  by  his 
bodily  presence.  Far  otherwise.  Then  Christ 
stood  in  a  crowd  observed  by  many  eyes  ; 
shut  off  by  some  distance  from  even  those 
nearest  to  him  ;  passing  occasionally  out  of 
the  midst  of  those  who  were  most  intimate 
with  him.  Rut  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is 
much  more  directly  a  separate  and  personal 
work.  Now  no  longer  in  the  crowd,  now  no 
more  as  one  of  many,  is  Christ  made  known 
to  us.  He  comes  to  us  away,  alone,  and  by 
ourselves  :  "  If  a  man  love  me,  he  will  keep 
my  words  :  and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and 
we  will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode 


138       SojHc  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

with  him."  A  presence  possessed  by  us  as  my 
Lord  is  now  the  very  promise  that  he  waits  to 
fulfill.  It  is  this  direct  personal  and  individual 
dealing  that  distinguishes  the  work  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  A  distinct  and  separate  act  of 
conviction  is  wrought  in  every  case  of  peni- 
tence, and  often  wrought  in  very  differ- 
ent ways.  A  distinct  manifestation  of  God's 
love  to  us  in  Christ  Jesus  is  given  to  each  for- 
given one.  In  each  believer  there  is  wrought 
a  distinct  and  personal  confidence — that  the 
Son  of  God  loved  me  and  gave  himself  for 
me.  To  each  child  of  God  is  given  the  bold- 
ness that  claims  God  in  the  tenderest  relation- 
ship, and  with  the  fullest  right  to  all  that  he  is 
and  has.  Because  we  are  sons  God  hath 
sent  forth  the  Spirit  of  his  Son,  crying,  Abba, 
Father. 

Be  bold,  then,  to  think  of  the  Lord  as  "  My 
Lord  and  my  God."  Beware  of  reading  or 
thinking  about  the  blessed  life  as  if  it  could 
be  yours  by  agreeing  with  certain  human 
theories  and  opinions  about  it.  It  is  only  in 
a  personal  possession  of  Christ  the  Lord.  It 
is  what  he  seeks  to  give  us,  and  what  he  will 
give   to    each    one   of  us  if  we  do  but   fully 


My  Lord  and  my  God.  139 

receive  him.  Take  him  and  trust  him  as 
your  own  ;  wholly  and  perfectly  your  own — 
understanding  you  apart  from  all  others, 
knowing  exactly  how  to  teach  you  and  to  help 
you.  Now  let  your  heart  take  up  the  glo- 
rious possession.  He  has  given  himself  for 
us,  that  he  may  give  himself  to  us.  And  now 
he  waits  for  you  to  accept  him  as  your  own — 
all  yours,  and  always,  altogether  yours — yours 
to  do  for  you  exceeding  abundantly  above  all 
that  you  ask  or  think. 


140       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

CONSECRATED  AND  TRANSFORMED. 

"  I  beseech  you  therefore,  brethren,  by  the  mercies  of  God, 
that  ye  present  your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  holy,  accepta- 
ble unto  God,  which  is  your  reasonable  service.  And  be  not 
conformed  to  tliis  world :  but  be  ye  transformed  by  the 
renewing  of  your  mind,  that  ye  may  prove  what  is  that  good, 
and  acceptable,  and  perfect  will  of  God." — Rom.  xii,  j,  2. 

The  key  of  this  chapter  does  not  hang  in 
the  door.  It  is  found  in  the  last  verse  of  the 
previous  chapter:  "  Of  him,  and  through  him, 
and  to  him,  are  all  things  :  to  whom  be  glory 
for  ever.  Amen."  Every  thing  comes  from 
God  ;  every  thing  fills  its  intended  purpose  by 
the  wisdom  and  energy  of  God  ;  every  thing 
comes  back  again  to  find  its  end,  as  its  begin- 
ning, in  God.  This  is  the  law  of  the  universe, 
the  great  march  of  all  things ;  from  God, 
through  God,  to  God. 

But  of  all  things  about  us  this  is  a  neces- 
sity. They  cannot  fly  from  their  appointed 
ends.     Ever  wrought  upon  by  a  great  compul- 


Consecrated  and  Transformed.         141 

sion,  they  must  ;  while  we  are  marked  off  by 
this  dignity  and  greatness :  that  to  us  this 
service  is  of  choice,  of  will.  We  are  sons,  not 
servants.  We  choose  where  they  must.  To 
us  it  is  an  intelligent  surrender,  a  "  reasonable 
service."  We  are  besought  where  all  else  are 
compelled.  From  reason,  not  from  blind 
necessity,  we  present  ourselves  to  the  sweep 
and  action  of  this  great  law. 

And  yet,  though  it  is  a  reasonable  service, 
it  is  a  subject  of  entreaty :  "  I  beseech  you." 
We  naturally  object  to  be  besought  to  do  a 
reasonable  thing.  Show  us  that  a  thing  is 
reasonable,  and  at  once  and  of  course  we  do 
it.  That  is  "  only  reasonable,"  we  say  of  a 
proposal  ;  and,  without  more  ado,  the  matter 
is  settled,  of  course  and  beyond  appeal. 
Think,  then,  that  for  our  highest  good  and 
loftiest  life  we  have  to  be  besought !  Should 
it  not  shame  us,  and  humble  and  hurt  us,  that 
for  God  alone  we  play  not  the  part  of  reason- 
able men  ?  Here  only  are  we  blind  and  fools. 
It  is  amazing  that  the  possibility  of  such 
blessedness  as  this  does  not  draw  us  eagerly 
to  its  possession  ;  that  we  should  have  to  be 
urged,  entreated,  driven,  when  God  invites  us 


142      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

to  give  ourselves  wholly  to  him  that  he  may 
give  himself  wholly  to  us !  Listen  to  the 
music  of  the  words :  "  that  ye  may  prove 
what  is  that  good,  and  acceptable,  and  per- 
fect will  of  God."  Alas!  the  words  reach  us, 
and  the  soul  finds  in  them  no  dawn  of 
heaven's  own  splendor.  The  ear  does  not 
hear  in  them  the  veiy  voice  of  God,  calling  us 
into  paradise  again.  We  stand  blinded,  and 
see  not  how  there  is  held  out  to  us  here  the 
golden  key  of  heaven  itself!  Here  is  reason 
not  only  not  a  guide  ;  it  ceases  even  to  prompt 
us.  Alas,  that  it  should  be  so  !  As  if  the 
humanity  which  God  fashioned  for  commun- 
ion with  himself  should  be  paralyzed,  uncon- 
scious, dead  only  when  he  appeals  to  us. 
Ambitious  enough  for  the  paltry  distinctions 
of  the  earth,  but  for  these  high  honors  need- 
ing to  be  entreated,  and  urged  ;  greedy  after 
earthly  good,  here,  only,  needing  to  be 
besought  and  driven.  O  that  we  could  feel 
the  plaintive  grief,  the  shameful  upbraiding, 
that  lie  in  this  call,  "  I  beseech  you  !  " 

This  is  the  entreaty  of  a  man  who  was  liv- 
ing this  life  of  blessedness.  He  had  given 
himself  right    up  altogether   to    God  ;    body, 


Consecrated  and  Transformed.  143 

soul,  and  spirit.  And  now  he  was  filled  with 
the  conscious  strength  and  triumph  of  this 
sublime  unity.  His  life  was  full-orbed  and 
rounded  perfectly.  Every  thought,  every 
aim,  every  desire  had  in  it  the  might  of  God  ; 
of  God,  and  through  God,  and  to  God,  was 
the  beat  of  every  pulse,  and  the  throb  of  ever}' 
thought,  and  the  life  of  every  desire,  and  the 
strength  of  every  work.  This  was  the  rhyth- 
mic flow  of  his  whole  being.  There  was  of 
necessity  in  this  man  a  constant  sense  of 
triumph.  He  walked  the  earth  with  such  a 
firm  step,  knowing  whose  world  it  is  and  that 
it  is  well  put  together,  as  if  under  his  feet 
were  the  granite  of  eternal  truth  or  the  pure 
gold  of  God's  eternal  love.  He  moved  about 
with  a  calm  untroubled  confidence,  quite  sure 
that  all  things  were  working  together  for  the 
glory  of  the  Lord,  and  for  his  good.  There 
sang  ever  in  his  soul  the  music  of  those  who 
serve  God  day  and  night  in  his  holy  temple. 
And  then,  in  all  the  consciousness  of  this 
blessed  life,  he  thinks  of  the  half-hearted,  of 
those  who  come  far  enough  out  of  the  far 
country  to  lose  the  husks  of  the  swine,  but  not 
far  enough  to   get  the  bread   of  the  father's 


144       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

house.  If  pity  is  anywhere,  keep  it  for  these  ; 
none  need  it  more.  These  are  the  miserable 
people  of  the  world,  who  admit  the  claims  of 
God,  and  yet  do  not  give  themselves  up  to 
them  ;  who  pull  for  heaven,  and  yet  do  not 
cast  off  the  rope  that  holds  them  to  the  shore. 
Like  the  fabled  coffin  of  Mohammed,  these 
people  are  neither  in  earth  nor  heaven,  but  lie 
suspended  between  the  two,  unclaimed  by 
either,  and  yet  fretting  for  each.  The  apos- 
tle's soul  is  stirred  within  him,  and  at  once 
with  a  demand  and  an  entreaty  he  cries  :  "  I 
beseech  you,  by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  ye 
give  yourselves  right  up  and  wholly  to  God !  " 
If  this  religion  is  worth  any  thing  it  is  worth 
all  the  mind  and  heart  and  strength  that  we 
can  put  into  it. 

Again,  it  is  the  entreaty  of  a  man  who  had 
lingered  at  the  cross  until  its  great  love  pos- 
sessed him.  He  had  seen  into  the  bitter  sor- 
row of  the  Son  of  God  ;  his  dreadful  shame  and 
agony.  He  had  seen  something  of  the  vast- 
ness  and  glorious  purpose  of  God's  unspeak- 
able gift.  He  had  looked  out  toward  the 
boundless  possibilities  that  are  opened  to  us 
all    in   him.     With   that    mercy   filling    every 


Consecrated  a?id  Transformed.         145 

thought  and  kindling  his  soul  he  turns  to  him- 
self and  to  us :  What  return,  what  acknowl- 
edgement, can  any  of  us  make  ?  There  can  be 
but  one  answer  :  Ourselves ;  all  that  we  have 
and  are  and  can  be,  presented  a  living  sacrifice 
unto  our  God.  We  are  besought,  we  are 
bound  by  that  infinite  love.  There  is  a  com- 
pulsion mightier  in  its  force  than  that  which 
controls  all  things,  infinitely  loftier  in  its 
origin,  infinitely  nobler  in  its  purpose :  the 
compulsion  of  love.  The  power  that  prompts 
this  consecration,  and  the  power  that  sustains 
it,  is  here  and  only  here  :  the  love  of  God  to 
us  in  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord.  There  let  us 
seek  it.  Our  resolutions  are  choked  by  the 
rank  undergrowth  of  weeds ;  our  purposes 
wither  when  the  sun  is  up.  By  that  love,  by 
that  grief,  by  that  agony,  by  that  dreadful 
death,  this  entreaty  comes  to  us.  The  cross  is 
the  eternal  beseeching  of  God.  And  only  by 
that  love,  that  deliverance,  by  the  power  and 
hope  which  the  cross  brings  to  us,  are  we  made 
strong  and  steadfast  for  this  consecration. 

Look  at  the  consecration  to  which  we  are 
urged :   "  That  ye   present  your  bodies  a  liv- 
ing sacrifice  .  .  .  unto  God." 
10 


146       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

We  will  turn  again  to  the  great  law  of  all 
things  and  trace  its  application.  There  are 
two  parts  of  it  which  illustrate  the  two  lead- 
ing thoughts  of  this  passage — sacrifice  and 
transformation.  We  will  take  these  two 
separately. 

The  first  part  is  this — that  nothing  in  God's 
world  is  any  good  until  it  is  given  up  to  that 
which  is  above  it. 

What  is  the  worth  of  the  land,  however 
fruitful,  and  whatever  title  we  may  have  to  it, 
unless  we  can  do  something  with  it  ?  "  Of 
course,"  you  say.  But  why  of  course?  Un- 
derneath that  '•  of  course "  lies  the  law  of 
which  we  speak.  The  soil  must  minister  to  us 
or  it  is  no  good — merely  waste  land.  It  must 
grow  its  grass  or  flowers  or  trees,  it  must 
yield  us  foundation  for  our  buildings,  or  min- 
erals and  metals  for  our  use,  or  it  is  of  no 
service,  and  so  no  good.  The  seed  again,  and 
all  its  products — corn,  and  grass,  and  fruit, 
and  tree — what  should  we  give  for  them  if  we 
could  do  nothing  with  them?  They  must 
yield  themselves  in  turn  to  the  animal  life,  or 
else  more  directly  minister  to  our  wants.  In 
this   lies   their   worth,    their  good.     And  the 


Consecrated  and  Transformed.         147 

cattle  and  sheep,  what  are  all  the  flocks  and  all 
the  herds,  except  as  they  clothe  us,  and  feed 
us,  and  minister  to  us?  And  we,  what  are  we 
for  ?  Here  lies  our  worth  and  our  good :  in 
giving  ourselves  a  living  sacrifice  to  God. 
This  is  our  service.  Waste  and  worthless  are 
we  except  as  we  give  ourselves  up  to  him  who 
is  above  us  ;  discerning  and  fulfilling  his  will 
concerning  us,  of  whom,  and  through  whom, 
and  to  whom  are  all  things. 

Then  comes  the  second  part  of  this  law, 
completing  it ;  every  thing  by  sacrifice  not  lost, 
but  turned  into  higher  life.  Very  beautiful  is 
this  law  of  transformation. 

Listen  to  the  parable  of  the  earth,  as  it  lies 
far  down  beneath  the  blue  heaven,  or  as  in  the 
cold  night  it  looks  up  at  the  silver  stars. 
"Here  am  I,"  it  mutters,  "so  far  away  from 
him  who  made  me.  The  grass  blades  and  the 
flowers  lift  up  their  heads  and  whisper  to  the 
breeze,  the  trees  go  far  up  into  the  golden 
sunshine,  the  birds  fly  up  against  the  very 
heaven,  the  clouds  are  touched  sometimes 
with  glorj'  as  if  they  caught  the  splendor  of 
the  King,  the  stars  are  bright  as  if  they  shone 
with   the    light  of  his    presence.     And    I  am 


148       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

down  here  !  How  can  I  ever  climb  up  to  him 
who  made  me  ?  "  And  then  the  poor  earth 
sighs  again  :  "And  that  is  not  all — not  even  the 
worst  of  it.  I  am  only  dull  soil,  without  any 
beauty  of  form,  or  richness  of  color,  or  sweet- 
ness of  smell !  All  things  seem  full  of  loveli- 
ness but  me.  How  can  I  ever  be  turned  into 
worth  and  blessedness  ?  " 

And  now  there  comes  the  seed,  and  it  is 
hidden  in  the  earth.  "  Earth,"  whispers  the 
seed,  "  wilt  thou  give  me  thy  strength?" 

"No,  indeed,"  replies  the  earth;  "why 
should  I  give  thee  my  strength?  It  is  all  I 
have  got,  and  I  will  keep  it  for  myself." 

"  Then,"  saith  the  seed,  "  thou  shalt  be 
earth,  and  only  earth,  for  ever  and  ever.  But 
if  thou  wilt  give  me  thy  strength  thou  shalt 
be  lifted  up  into  another  life." 

So  the  earth  yields,  and  gives  up  its  strength 
to  the  seed.  And  the  seed  takes  hold  of  it 
and  lifts  it  up  and  begins  to  turn  it  into  a 
hundred  forms  of  beauty ;  it  rises  with  won- 
drous stem  ;  it  drinks  in  sunshine  and  rain  and 
air,  mingling  them  with  the  earth's  strength 
and  changing  all  to  toughened  branch  or 
dainty  leaf,  to   rich   flower  or   ripened    fruit. 


1 


Consecrated  and  Transformed.         149 

Then  its  work  is  done  as  it  ends  in  the  seed. 
And  it  cries  to  the  earth:  "Spake  I  not  truly? 
Thou  art  not  lost,  but  by  sacrifice  transformed 
to  higher  life,  to  worth  and  beauty." 

The  parable  repeats  itself  in  the  case  of  the 
seed.  Take  up  a  handful  of  the  corn.  "  Is  it 
alive  ? "  you  ask.  Yes,  with  a  kind  of  life, 
but  all  unconscious.  It  cannot  see  or  hear  or 
move.  But  it  yields  itself  to  the  animal,  and 
then  its  strength  is  turned  into  part  of  the 
seeing  eye,  the  hearing  ear,  the  subtle  nerve, 
the  beating  heart.  And  the  animal  gives  itself 
in  turn  to  serve  man,  and  is  exalted  to  a  thou- 
sand higher  purposes.  It  yields  its  strength 
to  him,  and  it  ministers  to  the  thinking  brain, 
the  skillful  hand,  the  strength  that  sways,  that 
serves,  and  blesses. 

And  man  gives  himself  up  to  God,  to  love 
him,  to  learn  his  will  and  do  it,  and  is  trans- 
formed— into  what?  Ah!  who  can  tell  of 
that  wondrous  transformation  when  it  is  com- 
pleted ?  We  think  of  the  redeemed  and  glori- 
fied, white-robed  and  pure,  untouched  by  sor- 
row, unstained  by  sin,  into  whose  minds  there 
entereth  nothing  that  defileth,  in  whose  heart 
no   unlovely  thing  can  find    a  lodging-place, 


1 50        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

who  day  and  night  are  there  before  the  throne, 
standing  in  the  very  Hght  of  God's  own  glori- 
ous presence,  and  serving  him  with  a  perfect 
service,  unwearied,  unbroken,  amid  the  angels 
that  do  excel  in  strength  !  Do  you  ask  who 
are  these,  and  whence  came  they  ?  These  but 
yesterday  were  here  as  we  are,  earth-stained, 
commonplace,  burdened  men  and  women, 
tempted  and  afraid,  selfish,  sinful ;  without 
beauty  or  worth  were  they  too.  But  they 
gave  themselves  up  to  God,  and  now  are 
they  like  him,  for  they  see  him  as  he  is.  By 
sacrifice  not  lost,  but  transformed  to  higher 
life. 

Once,  when  I  was  a  school-boy  going  home 
for  the  holidays,  I  had  a  long  way  to  go  to 
reach  the  far-away  little  town  in  which  I  dwelt. 
I  arrived  at  Bristol,  and  got  on  board  the 
steamer  with  just  money  enough  for  my  fare, 
and  that  being  settled  I  thought,  in  my  inno- 
cence, I  had  paid  for  every  thing  I  needed  in  the 
way  of  meals.  I  had  what  I  wanted  so  long 
as  we  were  in  smooth  water;  then  came  the 
rough  Atlantic,  and  the  need  of  nothing  more. 
I  had  been  lying  in  my  berth  for  hours, 
wretchedly  ill,  and   past  caring  for  any  thing, 


Consecrated  and  Transformed.         1 5  i 

when  there  came  the  steward  and  stood 
beside  me. 

"  Your  bill,  sir,"  said  he,  holding  out  the 
piece  of  paper. 

"  I've  got  no  money,"  said  I  in  my  wretch- 
edness. 

"  Then  I  shall  keep  your  luggage.  What  is 
your  name  and  address  "^  " 

I  told  him.  Instantly  he  took  off  the  cap 
he  wore,  with  the  gilt  band  about  it,  and  held 
out  his  hand  :  "  I  should  like  to  shake  hands 
with  you,"  he  said  with  a  smile. 

I  gave  him  my  hand,  and  shook  his  as  well 
as  I  could.  Then  came  the  explanation :  how 
that,  some  years  before,  some  little  kindness 
had  been  shown  his  mother  by  my  father  in  the 
sorrow  of  her  w  idowhood.  "  I  never  thought 
the  chance  would  come  for  me  to  repay  it," 
said  he  pleasantly  ;  "  but  I  am  glad  it  has." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  I. 

As  soon  as  I  got  ashore  I  told  my  father 
what  had  happened.  ''  Ah,"  said  he,  "  see 
how  a  bit  of  kindness  lives  !  Now  he  has 
passed  it  on  to  you.  Remember,  if  ever  you 
meet  any  body  that  needs  a  friendly  hand,  you 
must  pass  it  on  to  them." 


152       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

Years  had  gone  by.  I  had  grown  up  and 
quite  forgotten  it  all,  until  one  day  I  had 
gone  to  the  station  of  one  of  our  main  lines. 
I  was  just  going  to  take  my  ticket  when  I  saw 
a  little  lad  crying — ^a  thorough  man,  he  was, 
trying  bravely  to  keep  back  the  troublesome 
tears,  as  he  pleaded  with  the  booking-clerk. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  my  lad?  "   1  asked. 

"If  you  please,  sir,  I  haven't  money  enough 
to  pay  my  fare.  I  have  all  I  want  but  a  few 
pence,  and  I  tell  the  clerk  if  he  will  trust  me 
I  will  be  sure  to  pay  him  again." 

Instantly  back  upon  me  flashed  the  forgot- 
ten story  of  long  ago.  Here,  then,  was  my 
chance  of  passing  it  on.  I  gave  him  the  sum 
he  needed,  and  got  into  the  carriage  with  him. 
Then  I  told  the  little  fellow  the  story  of  long 
ago,  and  of  the  steward's  kindness  to  me. 
"  Now,  to-day,"  I  said,  "  I  pass  it  on  to  you  ; 
and  remember,  if  you  meet  with  any  one  that 
needs  a  kindly  hand,  you  must  pass  it  on  to 
them." 

"  I  will,  sir,"  cried  the  lad,  as  he  took  my 
hand,  and  his  eyes  flashed  with  earnestness. 

"  I  am  sure  you  will,"  I  answered. 

I  reached  my  destination,  and  left  my  little 


Consecrated  and  Transformed.  153 

friend.  The  last  sign  I  had  of  him  was  as  the 
handkerchief  fluttered  from  the  window  of  the 
carriage,  as  if  to  say :  "  It  is  all  right,  sir ;  I 
will  pass  it  on." 

My  simple  story  is  the  poor  and  broken 
illustration  of  the  law  of  God's  great  kind- 
ness that  runs  through  all  things.  Here  lies 
the  earth,  and  it  says :  "  I  have  got  in  me 
some  strength.  It  belongs  to  God.  It  came 
down  from  him  to  me  by  a  host  of  gracious 
messengers — the  seasons,  and  the  sunshine, 
and  the  rain."  Then  it  whispers  to  the  seed  : 
"  I  will  pass  it  on  to  you,  and  if  you  can  pass 
it  on  further  you  will ;  wont  you  ? "  Then 
the  seed  takes  it  up,  and  carries  it  higher,  and 
it  says :  "  I  have  some  strength  in  me.  It 
belongs  to  God.  It  came  down  from  him  to  the 
earth,  and  the  earth  has  passed  it  on  to  me." 
And  the  seed  whispers  to  the  animal :  "  I  will 
pass  it  on  to  you,  and  if  you  get  a  chance  of 
passing  it  on  you  will ;  wont  you  }  "  And  in 
turn  the  animal  ministers  to  man,  and  it  says : 
"  I  have  some  strength  in  me.  It  came  down 
from  God,  and  it  belongs  to  him.  The  earth 
has  passed  it  on  to  the  seed,  and  the  seed  has 
passed  it  on  to  me,  and  now  I  pass  it  on  to 


154       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

you.  If  you  can  pass  it  on  further  you  will ; 
wont  you  ?  "  And  as  the  man  comes  in,  and 
with  a  conscious  and  reasonable  service  yields 
himself  to  God,  then  do  all  things  flow  back 
again  to  their  Creator. 

So  man  completes  the  circle.  He  is  the 
last  link  in  it  all.  Think  how  all  things  minis- 
ter to  him — the  light,  the  air,  the  earth ;  the 
growth  of  tree,  and  fruit,  and  flower ;  the 
strength  and  life  of  things  about  him.  Think 
how  the  ages  wait  upon  him.  How  the  slow 
action  of  centuries  has  ground  the  rock  to 
soil,  and  how  the  soil  has  been  wrought  upon 
by  wind,  and  rain,  and  changes  of  the  seasons, 
till  it  is  fit  for  the  seed.  And  how  the  seed 
gathers  up  this  vast  preparation,  and  passes  it 
on  to  man.  All  things  reach  up  to  him  ;  all 
things  wait  upon  him  :  "  Thou  hast  put  all 
things  under  his  feet."  If  he  serves  not  God, 
he  hinders  all  things,  and  diverts  them.  If 
he  yields  himself  to  God,  then  does  he  stand 
as  the  high-priest  of  nature,  arrayed  in  the 
garments  of  praise,  and  consecrates  all  things 
to  the  Creator.  It  is  a  cry  taken  up  and 
urged  by  the  voice  of  all  things — the  sun  in 
the  heavens,  the  air  we  breathe,  the  food  we 


Consecrated  and  Transformed.  1 5  5 

eat,  the  earth  we  tread  upon,  the  things  we 
handle,  all  that  eye  can  rest  upon,  and  that 
ear  can  listen  to,  repeat  this  word,  each  adding 
to  its  reasonableness,  each  demanding  it  as  a 
right :  "  I  beseech  you  therefore,  brethren,  by 
the  mercies  of  God,  that  ye  present  your 
bodies  a  living  sacrifice  .  .  .  unto  God." 
Then,  and  then  only,  do  all  things  find  their 
purpose  and  their  glorious  end.  "  Of  him, 
and  through  him,  and  to  him,  are  all  things: 
to  whom  be  glory  for  ever.     Amen." 

Next,  the  result  of  this  consecration — "  Be 
not  conformed  to  this  world."  How  great  a 
drop  is  this  !  We  were  dreaming  of  heaven  ; 
our  thoughts  were  all  taken  up  with  the  sub- 
lime hope  of  being  made  like  unto  the  Son  of 
God.  Then  comes  this  sudden  fall  to  a  com- 
monplace of  morality — a  mere  copy-slip  head- 
ing !  And  it  is  the  first  of  a  series  of  such 
.little  moralities:  Be  not  wise  in  your  own 
conceits.  Be  given  to  hospitality.  Be  not 
slothful  in  business.  Live  peaceably  with  all 
men.  But  that  this  should  seem  a  coming 
down  makes  the  lesson  all  the  more  needful. 
All  this  is  full  of  weighty  meaning.  Do  we 
not  too   often  think  that  our  way  upward  is, 


156      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

first  to  be  right  with  ourselves  ;  and  then  to 
be  right  with  the  world  ;  and  then  somewhere 
far  off  we  may  some  day  come  to  be  right 
with  God  ?  No  ;  the  order  is  reversed.  This 
is  the  only  way  upward  :  first  right  with  God ; 
then,  and  then  only,  right  with  all  things. 
First  "  present  your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice  " 
unto  God  ;  then  the  world  and  all  belonging 
to  it  is  put  in  its  right  place.  Sin  created 
nothing  new,  and  it  took  away  nothing  of 
what  God  had  created.  But  it  put  man  out 
of  harmony  with  God.  Then  at  once  man 
was  out  of  harmony  with  himself,  and  with 
every  thing  about  him.  All  things  are 
adjusted  to  God's  will.  This  is  the  end  as  it  is 
the  source  of  all  things.  Man  only  has 
broken  loose  from  his  place ;  and  as  soon  as 
ever  he  is  where  he  should  be,  he  fits  in  with 
all  things,  and  all  things  fit  in  with  him. 
When  he  loves  God,  there  is  a  perfect  har- 
mony— "  all  things  work  together  for  good." 
This,  then,  is  the  first  great  step,  and  not  the 
last ;  the  very  beginning  of  the  life  of  God 
lies  here,  and  all  else  shall  follow  of  necessity : 
"  Present  your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice  .  .  . 
unto  God." 


Consecrated  and  Transformed.         157 

How  vain  are  all  other  attempts  at  curing 
conformity  to  the  world !  Perhaps  there 
never  was  a  time  when  there  were  so  many 
Christians  as  there  are  to-day.  Certainly 
there  never  was  a  time  when  there  were  so 
many  home-made  Christians  as  there  are  to- 
day ;  man-made,  church-made  Christians. 
Who  does  not  know  the  receipt  ?  Tie  up  the 
hands  and  say:  "  Sir,  you  must  not  do  that." 
Tie  up  his  feet  and  say:  "You  mustn't  go  to 
such  and  such  places — at  least,  when  you  are 
at  home."  Gag  his  mouth  ;  blind  his  eyes  ; 
stop  his  ears ;  cut  him  off  from  certain  things 
at  which  society  is  shocked,  and  there  is  your 
Christian  :  a  creature  with  his  heart  hungering 
for  the  world  as  fiercely  as  ever,  and  whose 
only  evidence  of  any  earnestness  is  in  a 
constant  discussion  as  to  whether  there  is  any 
harm  in  a  score  of  questionable  or  unques- 
tionable things  that  he  desires,  and  in  the  sin- 
cerity of  his  complaint  that  they  are  forbid- 
den. Can  we  wonder  at  the  general  notion 
that  religion  is  a  thing  of  hardships  and  re- 
straints? To  present  our  bodies  a  living  sac- 
rifice to  the  opinions  of  religious  society  is  no 
cure  for  conformitv  to  the  world.     This  is  the 


158       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

only  way — a  glad,  complete,  whole-hearted 
giving  up  of  ourselves  to  God.  Then  comes 
the  being  "  transformed  by  the  renewing  of 
the  mind."  Transformed,  not  from  without 
but  from  within ;  exactly  as  the  earth  is  trans- 
formed when  it  gives  itself  up  to  the  seed. 
The  contrast  between  the  two  words  "  con- 
formed "  and  "  transformed  "  is  very  much 
stronger  and  more  definite  as  St.  Paul  stated 
it.  But  the  word  "  transformed  "  is,  literally, 
metamorphosed.  It  implies  an  organic  result. 
This  is  the  very  idea  and  heart  of  Christian- 
ity. It  is  not  only  an  example  of  true  life. 
It  is  not  only  a  revelation  of  new  purposes 
and  motives.  It  is  a  power  to  which  we  can 
surrender  ourselves,  which  can  take  us  up  and 
transform  us  into  a  newer  and  higher  life — 
even  the  life  of  God. 

"  That  ye  may  prove  what  is  that  good  and 
acceptable  and  perfect  will  of  God."  The 
renewed  mind  has  new  faculties  of  discern- 
ment. There  is  a  clear  perception  and  appre- 
ciation of  the  will  of  God  ;  new  eyes  to  see  it, 
and  a  new  heart  to  do  it  and  to  be  it.  We 
cannot  know  God's  will  until  we  are  given  up 
to  it.     Once  as  I  meditated  on  these  words  I 


Consecrated  and  Transformed.  1 59 

heard  the  children  pass  my  study  door,  and 
among  them  was  a  Httle  maiden  of  three  or 
four,  who  was  speaking  angrily.  "  I  sha'n't,'' 
rang  out  the  little  voice.  I  opened  the  door 
and  called  her  in.  "  This  wont  do,"  said  I, 
gravely  ;  "  you  must  stand  in  the  corner  until 
you  come  to  a  better  mind."  And  with  a 
saddened  face  the  little  offender  crept  to  the 
corner  and  set  herself  in  the  angle  of  the  wall, 
and  put  the  tiny  hands  behind  her  back,  and 
sighed.  "  Think  now,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  if 
she  put  on  a  tone  half-injured  and  half-sub- 
missive, and  should  say  :  '  Well,  I  suppose  it 
is  my  father's  will,  and  I  must  submit  to  it,' 
should  I  net  answer,  amused  at  such  mistaken 
meekness  :  '  Nay,  little  one,  you  are  wrong. 
It  is  altogether  against  your  father's  will. 
Your  father's  will  is  that  you  should  be  in  the 
garden  shouting  and  playing  with  the  others, 
as  merry  as  you  can  live  ;  but  you  have  gone 
against  your  father's  will  and  now  your  father's 
will  has  gone  against  you  '  ?  " 

And  as  I  turned  it  over  I  thought  I  saw 
where  all  the  crosses  come  from.  When 
God's  will  goes  one  way  and  ours  goes  another 
there  is  the  cross.     When  God's  will  and  mine 


i6o      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

are  one  the  cross  is  lost.  There  never  need 
be  a  cross  at  all ;  if  there  is  we  must  take  it 
up  ;  but  it  is  our  fault  if  there  is,  and  only 
ours.  "  No  cross  no  crown  "  is  on  many- 
ancient  bookmarks,  but  it  is  not  in  the  Bible. 
We  made  the  one  great  cross  which  Christ 
hath  borne  for  us,  and  now  if  our  will  be  alto- 
gether one  with  God's  will  there  is  no  cross 
for  us  to  carry,  and  already  the  crown  is  ours. 

Already  the  crown  is  ours — for,  what  makes 
heaven  ?  Not  white  robes,  not  golden  streets, 
not  harps  and  anthems.  Get  in  at  some 
thought  of  it  that  shall  satisfy  us.  What 
makes  heaven?  Is  it  not  this — this  only: 
the  eternal  harmony  of  wills !  God's  will 
and  man's  will  forever  flowing  on  together, 
making  heaven's  music.  "  Why,"  you  say, 
"  I  may  have  that  down  here."  Of  course  we 
may,  blessed  be  God  I  It  is  the  golden  key  of 
heaven  itself  which  is  held  out  to  us  here,  and 
we  may  enter  in  and  dwell  in  the  rest  and  joy 
of  the  paradise  of  God. 

And  what  is  hell  ?  God  grant  we  may 
never  know.  I  can  think  that  hell  is  the  eter- 
nal collision  of  wills.  Man's  will  forever  rising 
up   defiant    of  God's    will.     And  God,  in  his 


Consecrated  and  Transformed.  i6i 

majestic  authority,  forever  putting  down  the 
rebel  will  of  man.  Ah,  you  think,  we  may 
have  that  here  !  We  may ;  and  this  it  is  that 
makes  the  madness  and  distraction  of  many  a 
human  life.  All  things  else  have  some  rest, 
some  harmony;  but  how  many  a  human  soul 
is  tossed  and  torn  and  rent  by  this  defiance  of 
God  and  his  will ! 

And  now,  dear  reader,  here  is  a  thing  to.be 
done.  It  shall  help  us  nothing — only,  indeed, 
hinder  and  burden  us — to  know  all  this,  to 
believe  it  all,  and  yet  stop  short  of  doing  it. 
Better  never  to  have  heard  it  than  to  leave  it  a 
mere  text  for  a  sermon.  Listen  once  more  to 
the  appeal :  "  I  beseech  you  therefore,  breth- 
ren, by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  ye  present 
your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable 
unto  God,  which  is  your  reasonable  service." 
What  a  grim  and  hideous  mockery  it  is  if  any 
man  should  content  himself  with  reading  this 
exposition  of  the  text,  as  if  that  were  all ! 
Reader,  it  is  a  thing  to  be  done.  Will  you 
do  it  ?  You  will  find  it  well  and  helpful  to 
make  it  a  formal  act.  Write  out  the  text  as  a 
message    from     God     requiring     an    answer. 

Think  of  all  that  it  means,  and   then  write 
11 


1 62       So7ne  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

your  reply  in  God's  own  presence.  To  have  it 
deliberately  written  in  black  and  white  is  to 
make  the  act  so  much  more  definite  and  so 
much  more  real.  Set  the  date  upon  it,  and  then 
sign  your  name  as  having  made  yourself  over  to 
God.  Do  it  now,  while  yet  the  thought  is  in 
the  mind,  and  the  holy  purpose  prompts  you. 
Do  it  in  sight  of  the  cross  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  finding  alike  the  strength 
of  this  entreaty  and  the  strength  for  your  own 
consecration  and  faithfulness  in  "  the  mercies 
of  God."  Do  not  look  for  any  great  manifes- 
tation or  sudden  change.  Your  part  is  the  sur- 
render of  yourself  to  God  ;  if  you  do  your 
part,  be  quite  sure  that  he  will  do  his.  The 
renewing  of  the  mind  is  a  gradual  and  con- 
tinuous work.  Only  let  us  so  live  as  to  let 
God  have  his  own  way  with  us,  and  then  be 
assured  that  the  transformation  is  begun,  and 
will  go  on  until  we  be  made  in  all  things  and 
altogether  like  unto  our  blessed  Lord,  to 
whom  be  glory  forever.     Amen. 


Behind  Him — Before  Him.  163 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BEHIND   HIM — BEFORE   HIM. 

The  words  occur  in  St.  Luke's  gospel  : 
"  And  a  woman  having  an  issue  of  blood 
twelve  years,  which  had  spent  all  her  living 
upon  physicians,  neither  could  be  healed  of 
any,  came  behind  him,  and  touched  the  border 
of  his  garment :  and  immediately  her  issue  of 
blood  stanched.  And  Jesus  said.  Who  touched 
me  ?  When  all  denied,  Peter  and  they  that 
were  with  him  said,  Master,  the  multitude 
throng  thee  and  press  thee,  and  sayest  thou, 
Who  touched  me?  And  Jesus  said,  Some- 
body hath  touched  me  :  for  I  have  perceived 
that  virtue  is  gone  out  of  me.  And  when  the 
woman  saw  that  she  was  not  hid,  she  came 
trembling,  and  falling  down  before  him  she 
declared  unto  him  before  all  the  people  for 
what  cause  she  had  touched  him,  and  how  she 
was  healed  immediately.  And  he  said  unto 
her,  Daughter,  be  of  good  comfort :  thy  faith 
hath  made  thee  whole ;  go  in  peace." 


164       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

She  came  behind  him.  But  the  Lord  Jesus 
could  not  suffer  her  to  stay  there — unwelcomed, 
never  seeing  his  face,  never  hearing  his  voice, 
never  knowing  the  great  love  that  filled  his 
heart  toward  her  ;  knowing  only  the  healing 
virtue  that  lay  in  the  fringe  of  his  garment, 
and  taking  it,  like  a  guilty  thing,  by  stealth. 
He  could  not  let  her  go  away  thus.  He  could 
not  rest,  himself,  could  not  let  her  rest,  until 
he  brought  her  round  before  him. 

There  are  many  behind  him,  afraid.  The 
blessed  life  is  ever  before  him.  Let  us  follow 
the  story.  It  was  away  in  one  of  the  little 
fishing  towns  on  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  About 
the  rough  stone  pier  the  groups  of  fishermen 
gather  ;  and  there  are  the  boats,  and  sails,  and 
nets,  and  all  the  fishing  gear.  The  narrow 
street  goes  sloping  up  from  the  water's  edge. 
Here  is  the  home  of  Jairus  :  very  sad  are  all 
within  there.  The  only  daughter,  a  little 
maiden  of  twelve,  lies  dying.  All  hope  is 
gone,  they  say.  Ah !  there  goes  Jairus  him- 
self. Stepping  out  anxiously  from  the  door- 
way, pale-faced,  red-eyed,  he  is  gone  forth  to 
look  for  Jesus,  eagerly  hoping  to  find  him  be- 
fore the  little  daughter  has  breathed  her  last. 


Behind  Him — Before  Him.  165 

But  our  way  lies  in  the  poorest  part  of  the 
town.  Here,  in  a  single  room,  stripped  by- 
want,  sits  a  poor  woman,  wasted  and  white  as 
death ;  her  sorrow  graven  deep  on  her  face, 
and  all  about  her  telling  of  poverty  and 
wretchedness.  And  sitting  here  she  hears 
from  the  court  outside  the  gossip  of  the  neigh- 
bors. 

"  The  doctors  have  given  her  up,"  says  one  ; 
"  she  can't  live  through  the  day,  they  say. 
And  only  twelve,  poor  little  thing  !  Her  father 
is  gone  out  to  look  for  this  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
who  has  done  so  many  wonderful  cures.  A 
great  crowd  was  waiting  for  him  at  the  pier 
when  I  came  by ;  they  say  that  he  is  coming 
across  from  the  Gadarene  country." 

"  It  is  wonderful  what  this  great  Prophet 
does,"  says  the  good-wife  of  next  door.  "  They 
say  that  he  never  sends  away  any  sick  without 
curing  them  ;  no  matter  what  ails  them,  or 
how  long  they  have  been  ill,  he  heals  them 
at  once." 

So  with  the  sunshine  and  the  chirping  of  the 
birds  there  came  these  words  upon  the  poor 
woman's  soul.  She  sighs  within  herself — 
"  Ah,  if  I  were  only  like  Jairus,  only  great  and 


1 66       Sojne  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

rich  as  he  is !  Of  course,  this  wonderful 
Prophet  will  go  to  his  house  directly — he  is 
the  ruler  of  the  Synagogue." 

Then  the  sad  eyes  go  wandering  round  the 
wretched  room,  and  she  sighs  again.  "  Ah,  if 
I  only  had  somebody  to  speak  to  him  for  me  !  " 
And  then  she  stops.  Well  she  may.  Not 
poor  only — much  more  than  that.  By  the 
law  her  sickness  made  her  unclean,  defiled. 
She  was  forbiden  to  touch  any.  And  yet 
she  longed  to  be  made  whole.  She  wanted 
help  as  much  as  Jairus  did.  All  her  money 
spent  upon  the  doctors,  her  strength  all  gone, 
and  yet  work  had  to  be  done  or  she  must 
starve  ;  she  needed  help  and  healing  if  ever  any 
did.  Then  her  face  brightens  with  a  new 
hope.  Could  she  not  come  near  him  without 
his  knowing?  Of  course  this  holy  man  would 
be  very  angry  if  he  knew  it ;  but  she  would 
try  and  get  behind  him,  and  only  touch  the 
hem  of  his  garment.  He  would  not  know. 
And  then,  he  was  so  good  it  really  could  not 
do  him  any  harm.  So  she  rises,  determined  to 
go  forth  and  try  ;  saying  within  herself,  "  If  I 
may  but  touch  the  hem  of  his  garment  I  shall 
be  made  whole." 


Behind  Him — Before  Him.  1 67 

She  comes  on  her  way,  thinking  only  of  her 
hinderances  and  the  methods  to  which  they 
compelled  her  to  resort.  She  was  poor,  and 
she  could  not  expect  this  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
that  every  body  was  talking  about,  to  care  for 
her.  She  was  weak  ;  and  the  world  seemed  to 
be  all  for  the  strong,  and  the  pushing,  and  the 
clever.  And  then  he  was  very  holy,  and  she 
was  unclean ;  she  must  not  let  him  see  her. 
How  angry  he  would  be  if  knew !  If  she 
only  touched  a  priest  or  a  Pharisee  it  would 
be  dreadful ;  and  he  was  much  holier  than  they 
were. 

Here  is  a  picture  of  many  timid  souls,  who 
never  can  think  that  the  Lord  Jesus  cares  for 
them.  They  do  not  wonder  that  he  blesses 
other  people.  Others  are  good  and  wise. 
Others  have  faith,  earnestness,  love !  Ah,  if 
they  themselves  were  only  like  other  people, 
then,  they  think,  they  might  get  any  thing. 
But  for  such  as  they  are,  so  weak,  and  so  sin- 
ful, and  so  far  off — the  promises  cannot  be 
meant  for  them.  And  if  ever  they  are  blest  it 
must  be  in  a  kind  of  hidden  way,  just  a  trem- 
bling touch  of  the  hem  of  his  garment.  They 
wouldn't  presume   to  ask  for  more  than  the 


1 68        Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

outermost  salvation  possible.  But  for  that 
they  do  long  with  all  their  hearts,  and  they 
venture  forth  timidly  to  look  for  it.  Come, 
see  how  these  fearing  ones  may  hope  to  fare. 

The  woman  creeps  away  out  of  the  court  and 
to  the  end  of  the  street.  And  now  the  crowd 
is  coming.  Here  are  sturdy  fishermen  who 
tread  on  each  other's  heels.  Here  are  moth- 
ers, anxious  to  let  their  children  look  upon 
the  great  Prophet ;  here  are  lads  and  maidens 
thrusting  their  way  through.  Poor  woman  ! 
Weak  as  she  is,  what  can  she  expect  but  to  be 
pushed  hither  and  thither?  How  can  she 
ever  hope  to  get  near  him  ?  Then  for  a  mo- 
ment she  has  a  glimpse  of  him,  so  far  off  from 
her.  And  there  beside  him  is  Jairus.  Ah,  if 
she  were  only  great  and  rich  !  Then  suddenly, 
she  knows  not  how,  the  surging  crowd  thrust 
her  close  to  him.  The  robe  sweeps  within  her 
reach.  Forth  goes  that  withered  finger  and 
thumb,  and  timidly  touches  the  hem  of  his 
garment.  It  was  but  a  moment  ;  and  lo,  it 
was  all  done !  Through  her  she  felt  the 
bounding  tide  of  a  new  life  ;  with  a  glad  new 
strength,  amazing  and  delicious,  she  lifts  her- 
self up,  made  whole. 


Behind  Him — Before  Him.  169 

Ah!  there  is  a  sight  worth  looking  at.  In 
spite  of  poverty,  and  in  spite  of  weakness,  and 
in  spite  of  the  crowd,  she  manages  to  get  to 
the  great  Prophet,  and  is  made  whole.  Thank 
God,  it  is  always  so ;  always.  The  earnest 
search  for  him  can  never  be  in  vain.  Here  suc- 
cess is  certain  and  assured.  "  Seek,  and  ye 
shall  find." 

Every-where  else  we  may  deserve  success 
without  winning  it,  but  not  here.  Never 
yet  did  any  soul  set  out  earnestly  to  look  for 
Jesus,  in  vain.  Some  angel  guide,  some  silvery 
star,  some  Philip  waiting  in  the  desert,  some 
vision  in  the  night,  some  casual  word  dropped 
somewhere,  some  sweet  promise  spoken  to  the 
innermost  heart,  some  unexpected  but  unmis- 
takable presence  of  the  Lord  meets  them. 
He  will  be  found  of  those  who  seek  him  ;  and, 
more  than  that,  he  doth  devise  means  to 
restore  his  banished  ones. 

She  came  ignorantly.  She  came  secretly;  as 
if  to  steal  the  blessing.  She  meant  to  go 
away  again  without  so  much  as  thanking  him. 
She  seems  to  have  had  a  very  superstitious 
notion  of  the  cloak  and  its  hem.  And  yet  she 
found  him.     Ah !  they  who  wait  till  they  can 


I/O      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

come  perfectly  will  never  come  at  all.  Never 
mind  how  you  come — only  come. 

She  has  got  what  she  wanted,  and  now, 
dreading  lest  he  should  get  to  know  that  she 
had  touched  him,  she  tries  to  make  her  way 
as  fast  as  she  can  out  of  the  crowd.  She  is 
behind  him,  or  she  never  could  have  feared. 
See  that  gracious  Lord  as  he  stands  for  a 
moment,  every  thing  about  him  proclaiming 
the  great  love  that  yearns  to  bless  all  men. 
A  face  of  infinite  compassion  ;  eyes  that  melt 
with  graciousness ;  lips  from  which  drop  such 
words  of  yearning  pity;  hands  stretched  out 
in  eager  readiness  to  do  good — and  all  the 
time  this  poor  woman  is  behind  him,  trem- 
bling lest  he  should  happen  to  see  her!  Be- 
hind him,  and  looking  only  at  the  hem  of  his 
garment ! 

He  could  not  leave  her  there.  The  poorer 
the  comer,  the  tenderer  his  welcome ;  the 
lower  the  suppliant,  the  lower  is  he  ready 
to  stoop.  She  must  see  his  face ;  must  know 
his  heart.  She  had  sought  and  taken  the 
blessing  as  if  it  were  grudged  ;  she  must  have 
it  with  a  fullness  of  grace.  She  had  come 
with   fear  and  trembling;  she   must   go  away 


Behind  Him — Before  Him.  1 7 1 

with  the  music  of  his  words  fiUing  her  soul — 
"Daughter,  be  of  good  cheer." 

This  is  the  picture  of  thousands  of  earnest 
but  timid  souls  :  they  are  behind  him.  They 
have  a  salvation,  and  yet  they  do  not  know 
him.  Saved,  yet  they  never  see  his  face, 
never  hear  his  voice ;  they  have  no  living 
communion  with  him.  They  think  of  him, 
and  believe  in  him,  and  adore  him,  as  the  Son 
of  God  who  died  on  the  cross  in  his  infinite 
mercy  ;  and  now  he  has  gone  up  into  his  high 
glory  to  intercede  for  them,  and  at  last  to  re- 
ceive them  into  his  majestic  presence.  So 
far  away,  so  poor  and  fearful,  all  they  can 
hope  for  is  to  touch  the  healing  hem  which 
reaches  low  enough  for  their  trembling  hands. 
Promises  exceeding  precious,  and  prayers,  and 
blessed  sacraments,  and  hallowed  means  of 
grace,  these  are  theirs,  and  through  these 
virtue  goes  out  of  him  which  makes  them 
whole.  They  hold  to  the  doctrine  about  him, 
they  celebrate  the  glorious  memory  of  his 
death  and  passion,  and  look  onward  to  his 
coming  again,  and  in  these  they  find  most 
truly  a  healing  power.  And  yet  all  this  can 
neither  satisfy  him  nor  satisfy  us. 


172       Some  Aspixts  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

We  touch  only  that  which  is  outside  and 
away  from  him.  "  If  a  man  love  me  " — not 
the  touch  of  faith  only,  not  the  finger  and 
thumb  on  the  hem  of  his  garment,  but  love 
nie — the  whole  heart  going  out  after  him  and 
finding  him,  and  resting  in  him — "  If  a  man 
love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words,  and  my 
Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will  come  unto 
him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him."  That  is 
what  he  seeks,  and  that  is  what  we  need  ;  hav- 
ing not  only  his  healing  virtue,  but  his  great  love 
as  our  own  ;  himself  as  an  abiding  presence. 

Now  Jesus  stops  in  the  midst  of  the  surging 
crowd  and  looks  about  him.  Silence  falls  on 
alias  he  asks,  "  Who  touched  me?"  Then 
comes  a  longer  hush.  Poor  woman,  how  her 
heart  thumps  within  her !  How  her  guilt 
seizes  her  and  fills  her  with  trembling  fear ; 
Then  Peter,  swift  to  speak,  puts  in  a  word  at 
which  she  grasps  eagerly :  "  Master,  the  people 
throng  thee  and  press  thee."  But  Jesus,  still 
looking  about  him,  saith  only,  "  Somebody 
hath  touched  me.  I  perceive  that  virtue  is 
gone  out  of  me."  How  angry  Jesus  will  be 
with  her  !  How  indignant  the  people  will  be 
that  she  should  have  touched  him ! 


Behind  Him — Before  Him.  173 

"  And  when  she  saw  that  she  was  not  hid." 
The  trembling  seeker  after  Jesus  cannot  be 
hid.  Jostled,  and  elbowed  in  the  crowd  ;  tim- 
idly crouching  at  the  Master's  back;  trem- 
blingly touching  the  hem  of  his  garment, 
where  no  eye  can  overlook  her,  and  while 
none  suspect ;  yet  she  cannot  be  hid.  Igno- 
rant she  may  be,  foolish,  sinful,  driven  hither 
and  thither  by  the  press,  yet,  blessed  be  God ! 
the  seeker  after  Jesus  cannot  be  hid. 

Then  she  came  trembling,  and  fell  down  be- 
fore him.  Now  she  is  in  the  right  place. 
Behind  him  she  kept  her  great  want  hushed 
up  and  hidden — her  burden  of  weakness  and 
shame.  But  now  at  his  feet,  before  his  face, 
with  those  pure  eyes  looking  her  through  and 
through,  what  could  she  do  but  just  tell  him 
all  about  herself,  for  what  cause  she  had  come, 
and  how  she  had  touched  him? 

Behind  him  we  cannot  see  ourselves  any 
more  than  we  can  see  him.  We  are  in  his 
shadow.  Our  secret  sins  are  set  in  the  light 
of  his  countenance.  We  may  seek  a  place  of 
repentance  with  tears,  but  find  none  until  we 
fall  down  before  him.  We  may  dwell  in  the 
fire  of  Sinai  seeking  to  get  the  heart  melted  ; 


174      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

we  may  smite  at  it  fiercely  with  upbraiding 
and  shame,  but  that  will  not  break  it.  It  is  in 
sight  of  his  holy  presence  that  our  sin  appears 
so  black  and  hateful.  It  is  when  he  bends 
over  us,  not  in  wrath,  not  in  condemnation, 
but  in  grief,  that  our  sin  begins  to  hurt  us. 
It  is  beside  his  tender  patience  that  we  feel 
the  anguish  of  our  quick  temper,  and  our 
hasty  words.  It  is  there,  in  the  very  presence 
of  the  Truth  himself,  that  we  are  stricken 
through  and  through  with  our  falseness,  and 
foulness,  and  folly. 

And  does  it  seem  for  a  moment  to  some 
hasty  thought  that  it  might  be  well  for  us  to 
be  spared  such  humiliation,  alike  for  our  own 
sake  and  for  others?  A  great  and  gracious 
forgiveness  does  not  need  to  magnify  itself  by 
making  the  most  of  the  offender.  Sun-like, 
he  needs  no  black  foil  to  set  off  his  grace  and 
bounty.  Ah  !  how  far  away  was  his  mind  from 
any  such  thought  as  this !  All  his  thought, 
all  his  heart  were  with  her ;  eager  to  bless  her, 
indeed.  He  was  not  counting  aloud  the 
wealth  he  was  going  to  give  her,  but  only  de- 
vising the  means  by  which  he  could  fill  her 
with  good  things. 


Behind  Him — Before  Him.  175 

Think  if  she  had  escaped  unnoticed  from 
the  crowd  ;  conveying  with  her  the  deHcious 
secret  of  her  being  made  whole,  yet  going 
away  with  that  false  thought  of  Jesus  :  "  Ah, 
if  he  only  knew,  what  would  he  say  !  "  Why, 
she  would  have  lost  much  more  than  she 
found.  She  would  have  never  known  his 
heart  of  love. 

And  think,  again,  how  to  her  generous 
womanly  heart  this  very  gift  of  healing  behind 
him  might  have  become — and  would,  I  think 
— a  grievous  burden.  Henceforth  her  heart 
would  be  bound  to  him  by  a  deeper  interest 
and  an  eager  regard  all  the  more  intense  and 
constant  because  of  its  secrecy  ;  bound  by  that 
touch  as  if  her  trembling  hand  still  held  the 
sacred  hem.  How  she  would  inquire  concern- 
ing him !  And  now  think  of  her  coming  to 
hear  of  his  great  sorrow,  of  his  rejection  by 
the  chief  priests  and  Pharisees,  of  his  awful 
agony  and  shame  on  Calvary — and  she  had 
touched  him  with  her  defiling  hand  !  had 
filched  from  him  the  gift  of  healing !  There 
are  gifts  that  come  to  madden  men.  And 
completing  the  grief  would  come  another 
thought,    and    yet   a    greater    burden :    "  He 


176       Some   Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

healed  me,  and  I  never  thanked  him  !  To  think 
that  they  cried,  '  Away  with  him,'  that  they 
mocked  him  with  hoarse  voices,  that  they 
crucified  liim  !  Ah,  how  a  word  of  my  thanks 
might  have  soothed  him,  and  how  I  might 
have  ministered  unto  him  !     And  he  is  gone!" 

But  let  us  turn  and  see  how  she  fares  here 
before  him.  Her  confession  is  ended  ;  a 
dreadful  silence  falls  on  the  crowd.  What 
will  he  do  ?  thinks  she,  stricken  with  terror. 
Will  he  take  away  the  healing  and  add  to  it 
some  new  terror,  like  Gehazi's  leprosy?  Then 
all  his  great  love  bent  over  her — he  must 
surely  have  laid  his  hands  upon  her — spoke  to 
her,  with  such  an  infinite  compassion  as  earth 
had  never  heard  the  like  of,  words  that  seemed 
to  sink  down  into  her  soul,  filling  her  with 
heaven's  own  light  and  music  : 

"  Daughter,  be  of  good  cheer.  Thy  faith 
hath  made  thee  whole." 

That  is  where  the  blessed  Lord  is  ever  seek- 
ing to  bring  us :  before  him,  where  we  can  see 
his  face,  where  we  can  hear  his  voice,  where 
we  can  have  the  touch  of  his  hand,  and  where 
we  can  know  the  greatness  of  that  love  which 
passeth  knowledge.     He  would  lift  upon    us 


Bcliind  Hint—  Before  Him.  177 

the  light  of  his  countenance  and  give  us  peace. 
This  only  can  satisfy  him — this  only  can  sat- 
isfy us. 

Once  more.  Before  him  is  the  place  of 
usefulness.  So  long  as  she  was  behind  him  no 
one  but  herself  knew  any  thing  of  her  being 
healed,  and  her  great  anxiety  was  that  no  one 
should  know.  What  good  could  she  ever  do 
to  any  one,  a  poor  weak  soul  such  as  she  was  ? 
Her  place  was  behind  him,  of  course. 

There  often  is  a  certain  selfishness  in  the 

earlier    stages    of    salvation.     We    come     to 

Christ  for  our  own  sakes:  seeking  forgiveness, 

hope,  safety,  and    perhaps  with   no   thought 

beyond   these.     Faith  docs  not    fail  because 

the  object  is  a  selfish  one.     The  mistake,  the 

sadness,  is  not  when  the  soul  comes  thus  to 

Christ — it  is  when  thus  it  goes  away.     The 

mistake  is  when  our  blind  faith  lives  on,  and 

there  is  nothing  more;    no  growing  love,    no 

devotion    that    leaves    self    more    and    more 

behind,    the    soul    stretching    out    after  him, 

Faith  is  a  failure   unless  it  brings  us  before 

him,    to    pass    our    life    in    steadfast    love    to 

our   dear   Lord,   and    in  true   helpfulness  for 

others.     There,    before    him,    she,     poor    and 
12 


178       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

weak,  rendered  a  mighty  service  for  the  ruler 
of  the  synagogue,  who  seemed  in  need  of 
nothing.  For  while  Jesus  is  busy  with  her 
poor  Jairus  is  overwhelmed  with  the  bitter 
tidings  that  reach  him  from  home.  Through 
the  crowd  there  comes  one  who  whispers, 
"  Trouble  not  the  Master ;  thy  daughter  is 
dead."  It  is  a  scene  worth  looking  at.  On 
one  side  that  presence  which  throws  its  black 
shadow  over  the  ruler  ;  at  one  ear  the  words 
that  send  despair  into  his  soul.  On  the  other 
side  there  is  the  Light,  there  is  the  Lord  him- 
self, and  on  that  ear  fall  the  words  of  author- 
ity, "  Thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole."  On 
one  side  the  sleeve  is  pulled,  and  the  cold 
words  freeze  his  soul.  On  the  other  side  the 
gracious  Master's  hand  is  laid  on  him.  There 
Jairus  sees  what  faith  has  done  for  the  afflicted 
woman.  "  Believe,  only,  and  thy  daughter 
shall  live."  And  in  that  hour  that  poor 
woman  lifted  up  and  strengthened  the  faith  of 
Jairus  to  receive  his  little  daughter  from  the 
dead. 

She  lives  on,  in  the  traditions  of  the  early 
Church,  ever  before  him.  On  that  dreadful 
day  when  he  went  forth  in  the  crowd  bearing 


Behind  Him — Before  Him.  179 

his  cross,  in  awful  shame  and  agony,  it  is  said 
that  she  stepped  forth  from  out  that  clamorous 
mob  and  wiped  with  loving  hands  that  sacred 
face,  disfigured  with  sweat  and  blood.  And 
the  oldest  Church  historian  tells  that  he 
himself  had  seen,  outside  her  house  in  farther 
Galilee,  a  bronze  image  in  which  she  had  set 
forth  the  memorable  scene  of  her  healing  ;  a 
perpetual  tribute  of  her  love,  and  a  perpetual 
token  of  her  Saviour's  grace  and  power. 


i8o     Sojue  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 


CHAPTER   X. 

LOVE. 

"Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and 
with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength,  and  with  all  thy 
mind." — St.  Luke  x,  27. 

These  are  wonderful  words,  perhaps  the 
most  wonderful  earth  ever  listened  to.  If 
they  were  not  so  familiar  we  fehould  think  of 
them,  and  if  we  did  but  think  about  them  ever 
so  little  they  could  scarcely  fail  to  fill  us  with 
amazement. 

"  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God." 
These  words  never  came  from  men.  Earth 
never  could  have  heard  them  if  they  had  not 
come  down  from  heaven.  They  are  far  away 
from  our  thoughts  and  our  ways ;  a  whole 
heaven  above  them.  There  are  among  us 
many  voices  that  say,  "  Thou  shalt  :  "  the 
voice  of  the  master,  "  Thou  must  serve  me  ;  " 
the  king's  voice,  "  I  am  thy  sovereign,  honor 
me ; "  the  demand  of  the  tyrant,  "  I  am 
mightier  than   thou   art,    do    my  will ;  "    the 


Love.  l8l 

priest's  cry,  "  These  are  thy  gods  ;  bring  sac- 
rifice and  offering,  and  fear  before  them." 

But  love  ;  what  has  love  to  do  with  the  busy, 
the  ambitious,  the  great  ?  Love  is  for  the  lit- 
tle, or  f.-)r  the  weak  and  sentimental,  or  at 
best  for  equals,  and  for  leisure.  Authority 
wants  clever  servants,  and  brave  soldiers,  and 
a  patient  people  who  will  pay  taxes  without 
ado ;  admiring,  perhaps,  the  brilliant  policy 
that  has  involved  such  outlay  of  men  and 
money. 

But  lo,  into  our  midst  he  comes  who  made 
us,  who  gave  us  every  power  and  possession. 
Here  is  the  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords; 
the  supreme  Ruler  of  angels  and  of  princes,  of 
peoples,  and  of  all  principalities  and  powers. 
If  men  make  such  demands  on  fellow-men, 
what  shall  he  require  ?  Listen  to  his  voice  : 
"  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart ! " 

Here  we  see  the  very  heart  of  God.  He  is 
Love  who  speaketh  thus,  for  only  love  holds 
love  so  dear ;  placing  it  not  only  in  the  fore- 
front of  the  commandments,  but  making  it  the 
fulfilling  of  the  law.  Let  us  look  into  it  with 
the  eyes  of  the  heart,  until  we  feel  the  truth 


1 82      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

of  it.  Only  love  seeks  love;  only  love  wins 
love  ;  only  love  satisfies  love.  Here  see  the 
very  nature  of  God.  And  here  see  our  nature 
too.  He  who  is  our  lawgiver  is  our  maker, 
and  he  has  exactly  adapted  us  to  the  require- 
ments of  his  law.  Let  this  too  sink  down  into 
our  souls,  stirring  us  ;  our  God  who  commands 
us,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God,"  has 
given  us  every  faculty  we  possess  for  this  one 
end  ;  for  this  we  are  what  we  are,  and  where 
we  are,  and  as  we  are.  Heart  and  mind  and 
soul  and  strength  are  made  for  this  :  to  love 
God  perfectly.  Blessed  be  God  for  this.  As 
much  as  the  eye  is  made  for  seeing  and  the 
ear  for  hearing,  so  our  whole  nature  is  fitted 
and  adapted  to  this  one  glorious  end:  to  love 
God  perfectly.  Sin  had  wrought  within  us  a 
horrible  mischief,  and  left  us  with  the  curse  of 
the  deceiver  upon  us,  ''  Ye  shall  be  as  gods ;  " 
and  self  had  come  to  be  the  poor  low  object 
of  all  our  love,  the  aim  of  all  our  life.  But 
now  we  are  redeemed,  bought  back,  and  set 
free  for  God  again  ;  and  all  the  great  work  of 
our  salvation  leads  us  right  on  and  up  to  this  : 
"  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart." 


Love.  183 

As  we  look  into  these  words  let  us  earnestly 
ask  for  the  Holy  Spirit's  help.  To  talk  coldly 
about  the  outermost  things,  the  fringe  of  our 
Master's  robe,  were  a  shame  to  us ;  but  to  be 
cold  and  dull  when  we  muse  on  such  a  sub- 
ject as  this  were  a  shame  and  a  sin  indeed. 
Come,  blessed  Spirit,  and  shed  abroad  the 
love  of  God  in  our  hearts,  and  through  and 
through  us  let  us  know  this  truth ! 

This  is  the  first  and  great  commandment, 
because  all  else  flows  from  it.  First,  not  only 
because  God  is  what  he  is,  but  also  because  we 
are  what  we  are  ;  for  what  are  we  but  little 
children,  bewildered  with  the  mysteries  about 
us :  whence  things  come,  and  whither  they  go, 
and  what  they  mean  ?  Puzzled  by  the  alpha- 
bet of  things,  what  can  we  know  of  the 
Almighty,  of  his  ways,  and  of  his  works  ? 
But,  though  it  cannot  understand,  the  little 
child  can  love  ;  love  with  a  perfect  trust  and 
joy  and  thankfulness.  Oh  !  can  we  ever  hope 
to  know  God  ?  Can  we  ever  worthily  rever- 
ence him  ?  Can  we  ever  serve  him  as  do  the 
angels  that  excel  in  strength  ?  But  we  can 
love  him,  and  this  is  what  he  asks.  And  this 
is  the  beginning  of  all  knowledge  and  of  all 


1 84      Sojnc  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

service.  It  is  only  when  I  see  that  I  can  love 
God  that  I  can  come  to  him  and  serve  him  at 
all.  Tell  me  of  his  holiness — how  just  and 
righteous  he  is — and  I  can  but  hide  myself  in 
fear.  Tell  me  of  his  wisdom — how  he  spieth 
out  my  guilt  and  knoweth  my  hiding-place — 
and  I  despair.  Tell  me  of  his  almighty  power, 
and  what  can  I  say  ?  "  Let  not  God  speak  to 
me  lest  I  die."  But  tell  me  that  he  asks  my 
love,  then  I  draw  near  to  him,  sure  that  he 
loves  me.  And  when  once  I  know  his  love, 
all  that  God  is,  all  that  God  can  be,  stands 
about  me  to  complete  my  blessedness.  His 
holiness  is  but  the  purity  of  his  love — the 
pledge  of  his  faithfulness.  His  power  is  but 
the  mighty  arm  that  doth  encompass  me. 
His  wisdom  is  but  the  tender  care  that  reads 
my  every  want.  Tell  me  that  he  asks  my 
love,  then  I  can  come  near  to  him,  wondering, 
unworthy,  yet  to  take  him  as  my  own,  and  to 
give  myself  to  him.  So  all  true  religion  at 
once  grows  out  of  this  first  and  great  com- 
mandment and  leads  up  to  it ;  reverence,  trust, 
obedience,  love,  joy,  peace,  all  begin  here. 

Let  us  set  this  commandment  before  us  in 
its  exceeding  greatness.     It    is   a  command- 


Love.  185 

ment.  Do  not  think  of  it  as  a  privilege  that 
some  few  may  be  able  to  enjoy,  but  for  most 
of  us  only  a  point  up  toward  which  we  are  to 
aim.  Here  is  the  law  of  the  Lord  by  which 
we  are  already  judged,  a  law  which  stretches 
back  over  all  the  past  of  our  lives  ;  the  stan- 
dard by  which  every  aim  and  desire  and  effort, 
every  word  and  every  deed  is  measured.  Here 
is  the  great  first  commandment. 

Do  not  put  it  away  from  you  as  hopeless 
and  unattainable.  Do  not  try  to  bring  it  down 
to  some  poor  rendering  which  makes  this  word 
mean  nothing.  Here  it  stands  in  the  might 
of  its  authority :  "  Thou  " — it  comes  to  each  of 
us  away  by  ourselves  ;  "  thou  shalt  love  " — 
it  claims  the  innermost  being  for  God  ;  "  thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart  " 
— it  claims  every  desire  and  every  delight  ; 
"  thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart  and  mind  and  soul  and  strength  " — it 
claims  for  God  every  thing  that  is  within  us  ; 
every  power  and  possibility  of  our  nature. 

And  how  do  we  meet  this  great  command- 
ment ?  Think  how  dreadfully  possible,  how 
easy,  it  is  for  us  to  be  religious  with  an  exact 
and   constant   round   of  religion   that  has   no 


1 86      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

breath  of  love  in  it.  Well  may  we  tremble 
and  fear.  How  readily  we  slip  into  the  love- 
less round  of  prayer  and  service !  We  are 
trained  to  religious  habits  ;  we  are  surrounded 
by  influences  that  tend  to  outward  forms  of 
devotion  ;  how  often  and  how  easily  these 
may  be  put  in  place  of  the  real  living  heart 
union  with  the  Lord  !  Or,  indeed,  our  relig- 
ion may  be  another  and  worse  form  of  selfish- 
ness— a  seeking  to  save  myself,  and  securing 
for  myself  in  this  world  and  the  next  as  much 
happiness  as  I  can.  All  this  may  be  without 
a  glow  or  throb  of  real  love  to  the  Lord  ; 
blind  to  the  beauties  of  the  Altogether 
Lovely;  never  even  thinking  of  the  close  and 
abiding  communion  and  relationship  into 
which  God  is  ever  seeking  to  bring  us.  Ah, 
and  worst  of  all,  how  often  does  the  religious 
life  that  begins  in  true  love  to  God  cool  down 
and  harden  into  a  loveless,  lifeless  round  of 
formalism ! 

Love — why,  at  its  lowest  it  means  that  our 
hearts  go  out  after  him  in  eager  desire.  It 
means  that  we  linger  in  his  presence  with  a 
great  delight.  It  means  that  we  find  our 
truest,  purest,  fullest  joy  in  pleasing  him,  and 


Love.  187 

that  we  hold  his  favor  as  better  than  life. 
This  is  the  great  claim  with  which  our  God 
meets  each  of  us.  Think  of  this  command- 
ment going  back  over  the  whole  life,  in  all  its 
daily  round,  at  home,  in  business,  in  pleasure, 
every-where,  in  every  thing  ;  over  the  days  of 
cold  indifference,  when  \ve  were  too  dull  to 
hear  the  voice  that  called  for  us.  Think  of 
the  great  love  from  which  this  commandment 
flows  met  by  our  poor  formalities,  our  heart- 
less worship,  our  easy  forgetfulness,  our  con- 
tented distance  from  our  God  ;  and  all  the 
time  this  is  what  was  possible  to  us  and  what 
was  required  of  us:  "Thou  shalt  love  the 
Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart." 

Consider  earnestly  how  we  are  to  keep  this 
commandment. 

As  only  love  seeks  so  only  love  wins  love. 
You  cannot  compel  love  by  commanding  it. 
God  himself  cannot  make  us  love  him  by  tell- 
ing us  to.  Love  will  be  slave  to  none.  It 
cannot  wear  a  fetter.  Love  is  the  God-like 
faculty  within  us ;  of  the  high  royalty  of 
heaven,  it  yields  only  to  love.  Above  all 
price,  all  command,  never  wrung  by  any  threat 
or  moved  by  any  fear,  love  cannot  be  bound. 


1 88       Soine  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

So  God  comes  to  us  not  with  command  only, 
he  seeks  our  love  in  the  only  way  in  which  it 
can  be  won.  He  reveals  himself  as  the  ut- 
terly loveworthy.  Love  has  no  other  source 
or  spring  than  this.  We  love  him  because  he 
first  loved  us.  There  is  only  one  way  in  which 
we  come  to  love  God.  It  is  not  by  looking 
within  and  lecturing  ourselves  upon  our  duty. 
It  is  not  by  rules  and  exercises  in  the  religious 
life.  It  is  not  by  emotions  and  feelings  into 
which  we  can  force  ourselves.  It  is  possible 
for  us  to  stir  the  heart  to  a  flaming  forth  of 
strong  desires,  soon  sinking  down  again  into 
the  smoking  flax.  But  the  even  flow  of  true 
love  to  God  can  only  come  from  knowing  him 
as  the  Altogether  Lovely.  We  must  kindle 
our  fire  at  the  flame  of  his  great  love  to  us. 

Do  you  remember  the  story  in  the  old  time, 
how  Absalom  stole  the  hearts  of  the  men  of 
Israel?  He  Avanted  to  be  king,  but  he  knew 
that  it  was  of  no  use  to  hire  a  score  or  two  of 
fellows  to  blow  a  trumpet,  and  to  hoist  a  flag, 
and  to  shout,  **  Absalom  is  king."  You  can't 
make  kings  by  shouting.  Thus  Absalom  set 
himself  to  be  throned  in  the  hearts  of  the  men 
of  Israel  :    Rising  up  early  in    the   morning, 


Love.  1 89 

he  stood  in  the  gateway  of  the  city  there,  in 
the  fresh  and  dewy  dawn,  handsome,  noble- 
looking,  arrayed  so  as  to  set  himself  off  to 
most  advantage.  Then,  when  any  man  came 
up  from  the  country  seeking  a  hearing  from 
the  king,  forth  came  Absalom,  and  met  him  in 
the  gateway  with  kindly  greeting,  and  asked 
him  how  he  was,  and  as  to  why  he  came  ;  and 
as  the  countryman  told  his  tale  Absalom 
would  sigh  sadly,  and  look  grieved  on  his 
account — "  Ah,  my  friend,  I  only  wish  that  I 
were  king,  I  would  see  you  righted."  "  I 
wish  you  were,  sir,  with  all  my  heart,"  said 
the  plain  man  from  the  country,  thinking  that 
he  had  never  seen  such  a  pleasant  gentleman 
before.  And  when  the  man  went  home  again 
he  told  of  his  kindness  and  of  the  gracious 
words,  spreading  his  good  opinion  of  Absa- 
lom. So  did  the  prince  day  after  day,  week 
after  week,  month  after  month,  until  he  stole 
the  hearts  of  the  men  of  Israel.  Then  when 
the  trumpet  was  blown  thousands  were  ready 
at  once  to  rally  round  his  standard,  and  all 
the  people  went  with  him  to  make  him  king. 

A  contrast  as  well  as  an  illustration  ;  forth 
to  us  there  cometh  one  sent  of  the  Father's 


1 90       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

love,  the  Only  Begotten,  full  of  truth  and  grace. 
He  meeteth  us  in  the  gate  with  kindly  greet- 
ing. He  asketh  kindly  concerning  our  wel- 
fare. Never  was  there  one  so  brotherly. 
And  lo !  when  he  hath  heard  the  story  of  our 
sin  and  grief  and  shame  and  fear,  he  giveth  us 
not  words  of  good-will  only,  and  vain  wishes  ; 
he  showeth  us  how  that  he  hath  stood  in  our 
place  ;  how  that  he  hath  borne  our  sins  in  his 
body  on  the  tree  ;  how  that  he  by  the  grace 
of  God  hath  won  for  us  a  free  pardon  ;  and  he 
bringeth  us,  accepted,  into  the  presence  of  the 
King,  and  giveth  us  ten  thousand  glorious 
promises  of  blessedness  in  his  presence  and  at 
his  right  hand. 

Ah,  it  is  in  sight  of  the  cross  that  love  is 
born.  Hereby  perceive  we  the  love  of  God, 
because  he  laid  down  his  life  for  us.  Herein 
is  love  :  not  that  we  loved  God,  but  that  he 
loved  us  and  sent  his  Son  to  be  the  propitia- 
tion for  our  sins.  It  is  in  tarrying  here  and 
gazing  upon  this  wondrous  love,  and  musing 
upon  it,  that  the  fire  of  our  love  is  enkindled. 

Only  love  satisfies  love,  is  another  precious 
truth  for  us.  His  love  will  hold  very  dear  the 
poor  offering  of  our  lives  and  service.     What 


Love.  IQI 

love  touches  it  turns  to  more  than  gold.  Have 
you  ever  thought,  in  all  the  world's  eagerness 
for  wealth,  its  conflicts  and  crowds,  its  hoarded 
gains,  its  coveted  possessions,  its  pride  and 
glitter  and  show,  what  are  earth's  most  treas- 
ured possessions  ?  Is  it  not  this  :  the  love  of 
some  faithful  heart  ;  the  simple,  quiet  ways 
of  love  to  greet  one,  day  by  day  ;  the  prattle 
of  the  little  child — ah,  and,  even  more  sa- 
credly treasured — a  lock  of  hair,  a  faded  por- 
trait, a  bit  of  work  enriched  by  the  touch  of  a 
vanished  hand  ?  The  mite  from  the  hand  of 
love  can  buy  all  the  costly  gifts  of  the  treasury. 
Poor,  empty,  worthless  is  the  best  service  that 
we  can  give  to  our  God ;  but  if  it  spring  from 
love,  and  if  his  love  accept  it,  then  his  love 
makes  much  of  it,  and  holds  it  very  dear. 
Our  broken  service  is  presented  in  love's 
casket,  and  in  that  the  least  is  very  much. 
Let  his  love  embolden  thy  love.  It  is  the 
God  of  love  who  gives  the  command,  "  Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy 
heart." 

But,  blessed  and  helpful  as  this  is,  it  is  not 
enough.  There  is  but  one  way  in  which  we 
can  keep  this  commandment.     It  is  not  graven 


192       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

upon  a  granite  stone,  in  hard,  sharp  letters. 
There  is  One  who  has  fulfilled  the  law  ;  who  is 
ever  fulfilling  it ;  and  he  comes  to  dwell  in 
us,  to  be  in  us  the  Life  as  well  as  the  Truth. 
It  is  in  taking  the  Lord  Jesus  as  our  strength 
for  obedience  that  we  learn  to  keep  the  law. 

Reach  out  the  hand  of  faith  again  ;  he  is 
our  Saviour  from  the  weakness,  the  coldness, 
the  fickleness  of  our  nature.  This  life  of  per- 
fect love  is  ours  when  we  receive  the  Lord 
Jesus,  the  living  Saviour,  as  come  to  fulfill  the 
law  in  us  and  through  us. 

As  God's  love  is  the  source  of  our  love,  so 
it  is  the  pattern  of  our  love.  We  love  him 
because  he  loved  us.  See  to  it  that  it  is  love 
like  his  ;  of  the  same  nature  though  not  of  the 
same  degree;  as  the  sun  is  imaged  in  the  dew- 
drop.  God's  love  is  never  a  mere  feeling,  it  is 
not  a  pity  only,  a  sympathy.  It  flows  forth  in 
blessing  ;  it  is  ceaselessly  active.  Here  is  the 
nature  of  all  true  love,  its  essence.  God  so 
loved  the  world  that  he  gave — love  must 
give ;  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten  Son — 
love  must  give  its  best  and  dearest,  its  all  ; 
that  we  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlast- 
ing life ; — love  cannot  rest  till  it  has  secured 


Love.  193 

the  safety  and  blessedness  of  the  beloved. 
Such  is  the  love  wherewith  we  must  love  him. 
Beware  of  mere  emotions  and  desires,  and 
vague  longings  and  sentimental  dreamings. 
Love  that^  is  only  a  feeling  is  but  a  name.  Let 
us  not  love  in  word  only,  but  in  deed  and  in 
truth.  Here  are  three  marks  that  must  dis- 
tinguish our  love,  or  it  is  but  an  empty  thing. 

To  love  God  with  all  the  heart  is  to  delight 
in  pleasing  him. 

God's  love  to  us  leads  him  to  bend  over  us, 

making  all  things  work  together  for  good,  and 

leading  us  on  to  the  fullness  of  blessedness  at 

his  right  hand.     The  heaven  of  love  is  in  the 

joy  of  the  beloved.     Its  hell  is  in  the  beloved's 

grief.     Loving  God  with  all  the  heart  is  to  set 

his  will  before  us  as  our  joy,  and  by  all  things 

and  in  all  things  to  please  him ;  it  is  to  hate 

sin  with  a  great  abhorrence,  because  it  hath 

slain  him  who  is  our  dearest  friend  and  Saviour. 

Trying  to  do  the  little  things  of  life  in  such  a 

way  as  to   please  him,  bearing   what  we  must 

bear,  sharing  what  we  can  share,  helping  all, 

forgiving  all,  denying  ourselves,  holding   and 

using  all  things  as  from  him   and  for  him — 

sacred  alike  in  their  origin  and  purpose — this 
13 


194      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

is  to  love  God  with  all  the  heart,  this  is  what 
God  commands.  Our  obedience  is  to  come 
flowing  up  from  this  well-spring.  We  love  the 
Father,  and  as  he  gives  us  commandment 
even  so  we  do. 

To  love  God  with  all  the  heart  is  to  delight 
most  of  all  in  his  presence.  Here,  too,  God's 
love  is  the  pattern  for  ours.  His  great  love  can- 
not rest  until  it  has  gathered  all  his  children 
about  him  in  peace  and  joy.  When  God's  love 
could  flow  unhindered  into  the  world,  this  is 
the  scene  that  meets  us;  Paradise,  wherein 
the  Father  comes  to  walk  and  talk  with  his 
child.  Then  there  is  the  fall,  with  its  separa- 
tion from  God  and  the  being  driven  forth. 
But  slowly  love  works  on,  undoing  the  sin, 
until  we  reach  the  last  picture  in  the  Book  of 
Life.  There  the  heavenly  Father  has  gath- 
ered the  children  at  home  again  in  the  Father's 
house.  He  must  have  their  presence  ;  they  go 
out  no  more  forever.  There  his  love  welcomes 
them  with  all  blessedness;  theyhunger  nomore, 
neither  thirst  any  more.  It  is  only  when  the 
Father's  arms  have  clasped  the  son  to  his  heart, 
and  brought  him  home  in  safety,  that  there 
comes  the  merry-making  and  the  great  joy. 


Love.  195 

And  this  love  God  asks  from  us ;  to  love 
him  so  as  to  make  his  presence  a  delight. 
The  highest  heaven  is  to  be  more  than  gold 
and  gems,  fruits  and  streams.  The  fullness  of 
joy  is  at  his  right  hand,  the  blessedness  for 
evermore  is  in  his  presence. 

And,  lastly,  to  love  God  with  all  the  heart  is 
to  hold  ourselves  and  all  we  are  as  belonging 
to  him.  This  is  love's  unfailing  character, 
that  it  has  nothing  of  its  own.  Hereby  per- 
ceive we  the  love  of  God,  because  he  laid  down 
his  life  for  us.  That  was  the  proof  of  love. 
And  this  is  always  the  true  love-token,  the 
token  of  true  love  ;  it  will  spare  nothing  for 
the  blessedness  of  those  that  it  loves  with  the 
whole  heart.  And  to  love  God  with  all  the 
heart  is  to  hold  ourselves  and  all  we  have — 
family,  home,  property,  good  name,  health, 
reason,  life,  influence,  talents,  time — all 
stamped  with  the  crest  and  motto  of  heaven. 
The  cross  is  graven  thereon,  and  underneath 
the  legend,  "  We  are  not  our  own ;  we  are 
bought  with  a  price." 


196      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

REST. 

"  He  maketh  me  to  lie  down." — PsA.  xxiii,  2. 
"  I  will  feed    my  flock,  and  I  will  cause  them  to  lie  down^ 
saith  the  Lord  God." — EzEK.  xxxiv,  15. 

"  Maketh  me  to  lie  down."  If  there  is  any 
one  thing  that  a  sheep  can  do  for  itself,  surely 
it  is  just  that^lying  down.  A  sheep  may 
want  feeding  ;  it  may  want  leading ;  it  may 
need  to  be  delivered  out  of  the  hand  of  many 
enemies  ;  it  may  need  bringing  back  to  the 
fold  ;  but,  lying  down — surely  it  is  able  to  do 
that  for  itself! 

Ah,  so  we  think,  and  so  we  never  come  to 
the  Lord  for  this  great  gift  and  grace.  And 
all  the  time  it  is  the  Lord's  own  secret,  which 
he  keepeth  ever  to  himself.  The  sheep  are 
always  seeking  to  lie  down,  and  they  cannot. 
The  world  is  always  trying  to  find  this  power, 
but  in  vain.  The  tempter  would  sell  almost 
any  thing  in  his  realm  if  he  could  but   buy 


Rest.  197 

this  knowledge — how  to  make  his  sheep  h'e 
down. 

I  was  leaning  over  a  gate  one  day  watching 
the  flock  as  they  rested  in  the  green  pastures. 
"  When  do  your  sheep  lie  down,  shepherd  ?  " 
said  I.  "  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  don't  know;  I 
suppose  it  is  when  they  have  had  enough." 

Only  the  Lord  can  give  his  sheep  that. 

Presently  there  came  the  master  of  the  flock. 
*'  When  do  your  sheep  lie  down  ?  "  I  asked. 
**  Only  when  they  are  very  comfortable,"  said 
he ;  and  even  as  he  spoke  they  rose  up 
frightened,  and  hurried  together  for  protection, 
because  the  dog  was  looking  in  at  the  gate. 

Only  the  Lord  can  make  his  sheep  lie  down. 
And  this  is  the  first  thing — not  the  last.  "  He 
maketh  me  to  lie  down,"  then  "  he  leadeth 
me."  Many  of  us  have  a  private  version  of  this 
Psalm  which  runs  thus  :  He  leads  me  until  I 
am  dreadfully  tired,  and  then  he  lets  me  lie 
dowm  for  a  little  while.  No  !  Listen  to  the 
sweet  music  of  the  song :  He  maketh  me  to 
lie  down,  then  he  leadeth  me.  Stay,  timid 
soul ;  you  think  that  to  follow  him  means  a 
panting  journey  across  a  desert  place,  foot-sore, 
thirsty,   urged   on   by  fear  of  the   night   and 


19S       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

beasts  of  prey,  with  the  shepherd  himself  ever 
so  far  on  before  thee,  and  moving  so  quickly 
that  thou,  poor  wearied  one,  canst  scarce  keep 
him  in  sight !  Oh,  the  worry,  the  burden,  the 
fretting  that  religion  is  to  many  !  Rest  ?  no, 
indeed.  It  is  a  wearied  effort,  dragging  tired 
steps  forever  up  a  steep  hill  and  fearing  that 
they  will  never  get  to  the  top  1  Ah,  before 
you  take  a  step  he  would  have  you  at  rest 
with  him.  "  Lie  down,  dear  child,"  saith  he  ; 
"  lie  down  ;  my  service  is  not  weariness,  but 
rest  ;  lie  down,  then  ;  when  thy  fears  are 
gone  to  sleep  and  thou  hast  learned  my  love, 
then  will  I  lead  thee." 

There  is  the  same  wonderful  tenderness  in 
the  blessed  Lord's  own  words,  "  Come  unto 
me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and 
I  will  give  you  rest" — then  "learn  of  me." 
"  Rest  first,  and  then  I  can  teach  thee," 
saith  he. 

See,  into  the  school  here  comes  the  new 
scholar — a  timid  little  fellow,  with  frightened 
eyes,  looking  round  on  all  the  clever  boys  and 
girls,  wondering  if  he  will  ever  get  to  know  so 
much  as  they  do  ;  burdened  and  bewildered 
by  the  maps  and  boards  and  all  the  signs  of 


Rest.  199 

learning  that  every-where  look  down  so  sternly 
on  him,  making  him  feel  quite  guilty  at  being 
so  ignorant.  So  dull,  so  stupid  as  he  feels 
himself,  poor  little  lad,  he  wonders  if  he  will 
ever  get  through  the  mysteries  of  the  alpha- 
bet, or  if  he  will  ever  get  up  the  slippery 
heights  of  the  multiplication  table.  Ah  I  see, 
here  comes  the  gentle  mistress,  without  book 
or  cane,  and  draws  the  frightened  little  scholar 
to  her  side  with  pleasant  smile  and  merry 
words,  and  begins  to  tell  him  a  story,  and 
makes  him  forget  that  he  is  at  school ;  and 
then  when  he  is  at  home  with  her  she  opens 
a  book  and  teaches  him  a  lesson  without  his 
ever  guessing  that  he  is  learning  any  thing. 
This  is  just  the  blessed  Master's  own  method. 
"  Rest — then  learn  of  me."  Come  and  know 
first  of  all  my  patient  gentleness  and  love, 
then  I  can  teach  thee ;  this  first,  not  last. 
**  He  maketh  me  to  lie  down,"  then  he  leadeth 
me.  He  who  hath  not  learned  to  rest  hath 
not  learned  how  to  learn.  He  who  knows  not 
how  he  makes  us  to  lie  down  knows  not  how 
to  follow  him. 

Note  well  where  the  resting  place  is.    Some 
time  since    I   was  driving  across  the  Cornish 


200       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

moors,  when  my  friend  who  was  with  me 
pointed  to  a  greener  slope  between  the  rocky 
hills.  "  My  father  owned  some  land  here 
when  I  was  a  boy,"  said  he,  "  and  many  a 
time  I  have  ridden  over  these  moors  looking 
for  the  sheep  ;  I  generally  found  them  on  that 
slope."  "Why  there?"  I  asked.  Then  he 
showed  me  how  that  two  high  hills  rose  up 
and  sheltered  it  from  the  north  and  east, 
and  how  that  the  slope  faced  the  south,  so 
that  they  found  it  warmer,  and  the  early 
young  green  grass  grew  there. 

Some  time  afterward  that  pleasant  picture 
of  the  hills  happened  to  come  back  to  my 
mind,  and  I  turned  wondering  as  to  where  His 
flock  finds  its  resting  place.  Very  beautiful 
for  situation  is  this  twenty-third  Psalm.  The 
Psalm  before  it  begins  with  that  dreadful  cry, 
"  My  God  !  my  God  !  why  hast  thou  forsaken 
me?"  Here  is  the  hill  of  Calvary,  with  its 
mocking  crowd.  They  part  his  garments 
among  them,  and  cast  lots  for  his  vesture. 

His  sheep  have  come  over  Calvary.  They 
have  passed  under  the  cross.  Behind  them 
rises  that  hill  which  forever  breaks  the  fierce 
blasts  that  would  beat  upon  us.    "  Being  justi- 


Rest.  20I 

fied  by  faith,  we  have  peace  with  God  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ : "  here  is  the  calm,  and 
overhead  the  blue  sky  where  no  storms 
gather.  Then,  immediately  after  the  twenty- 
third  Psalm,  comes  that  which  tells  of  the  hill 
of  Zion  with  its  splendors  and  shouts  of 
triumph.  "  Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates ; 
and  be  ye  lift  up,  ye  everlasting  doors  ;  and 
the  King  of  glory  shall  come  in."  So  shel- 
tered lies  the  flock  of  the  good  Shepherd, 
betwixt  Calvary  and  heaven,  shut  in  from  the 
angrier  blasts  and  dwelling  in  a  land  that 
looks  toward  the  sunny  south. 

But  many  have  come  over  the  hill  of  Calvary 
who  have  never  learned  to  lie  down.  The  first 
essential  of  this  blessed  rest  is  an  assurance  of 
safety.  The  stranger  startles  the  flock,  the 
watch-dog  frightens  it,  the  howl  of  the  wild 
beast  scatters  it  in  panting  terror.  The  con- 
fidence of  the  first  line  is  the  key  to  all  the 
gladness  of  the  Psalm  :  "  The  Lord  is  my 
shepherd."  The  whole  song  is  born  of  assur- 
ance. Fear  strikes  all  dumb,  as  when  the 
hawk  wheels  overhead  in  the  blue  heavens 
and  hushes  instantly  the  music  of  the  groves. 
Doubt  spoils  it  all — "  the  little  rift  within  the 


202       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

lute."  Confidence,  steadfast,  unwavering  con- 
fidence, is  the  very  heart  of  this  rest.  There 
must  be  a  great,  deep,  abiding  conviction 
wrought  into  us  that  he  is  mine,  and  I  am 
his. 

The  sheep  is  a  very  timid  creature,  easily 
frightened  ;  it  must  trust  fully  before  it  can 
rest  at  all.  Think  of  the  sheep  that  is  not 
quite  sure  whether  it  belongs  to  the  shep- 
lierdornot!  May  it  eat  of  the  pasture  ?  And 
it  ventures  to  snatch  a  doubtful  nibble  and 
looks  up  like  a  guilty  thing.  It  hears  the 
lion's  roar,  and  bleats  piteously,  afraid  that  it 
has  no  helper.     That  sheep  will  not  lie  down. 

It  scarcely  needs  any  argument  to  prove 
that  this  full  assurance  of  faith  is  meant  for  all 
of  us.  Doubt  undoes  all  that  He  can  give. 
It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  he  does  not 
give  us  anything  unless  we  can  be  sure  that  it 
is  ours.  What  if  one  who  calls  himself  my 
friend  should  ask  me  to  his  house,  and  wel- 
come me  with  many  words,  and  entertain  me 
with  sumptuous  show  of  hospitality,  and  give 
me  a  thousand  tokens  of  his  regard.  He  bids 
me  make  myself  at  home,  and  hopes  I  shall 
be  comfortable ;  but  as  I  am  going  to  rest,  he 


Rest.  203 

takes  me  aside.  "  This  is  a  pleasant  house, 
isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Very,  indeed,"  say  I ;  "  most  pleasant. 
The  design  and  arrangements  are  perfect,  the 
views  are  charming,  the  gardens  delightful ; 
every  thing  is  complete." 

"  I  am  glad  you  like  it ;  I  hope  you  will  rest 
well ;  "  and  then  his  voice  sinks  to  a  whisper, 
"  but  there  is  just  one  thing  I  ought  to  men- 
tion :  we  are  not  quite  sure  about  the  foun- 
dations." 

"  Then,  sir,"  I  say  indignantly,  "  you  may 
depend  upon  it  I  am  not  going  to  stay  here." 

Sleep  !  I  couldn't.  Why,  the  man's  wel- 
come to  the  place  is  cruel ;  the  entertainment 
is  a  hideous  mockery ;  the  decorations  and 
furniture  are  a  madman's  folly.  No  ;  give  me 
some  poor  cottage  with  many  discomforts,  but 
where  I  do  know  that  the  foundations  are 
right,  and  I  should  be  much  better  off. 

Be  quite  sure  that  the  blessed  Lord  hath 
this  gift  for  each  of  us — this  golden  clasp  of  all 
his  gifts.  "  In  whom  ye  also  trusted,"  says 
St.  Paul  to  the  Ephesians,  "  after  that  ye 
heard  the  word  of  truth,  the  gospel  of  your 
salvation ; "  but  that    is    not    all :   "  in  whom 


204       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

also  after  that  ye  believed  yc  were  sealed  with 
that  Holy  Spirit  of  promise  which  is  the  ear- 
nest of  our  inheritance."  This  blessed  confi- 
dence toward  God  is  a  part  of  the  gospel  of 
our  salvation.  Go  and  ask  for  it  boldly. 
Seek  it  confidently.  "  Ye  have  not  received 
the  spirit  of  bondage  again  to  fear;  but  ye 
have  received  the  spirit  of  adoption,  whereby 
we  cry,  Abba,  Father.  The  Spirit  itself  bear- 
eth  witness  with  our  spirit  that  we  are  the 
children  of  God." 

Yet,  note  well,  it  is  not  what  I  am,  but  what 
he  is,  which  is  the  source  of  confidence.  This 
assurance,  which  is  rest,  comes  from  the 
character  of  the  Shepherd.  "  He  maketh  me 
to  He  down."  A  weak,  or  careless,  or  unskillful 
shepherd  could  not  make  his  sheep  rest  in 
such  blessed  safety.  The  confidence  which 
lies  down  sings  of  him,  "  He  is  my  Shepherd, 
he  leadetli  me,  I  shall  not  want." 

Power,  wisdom,  love,  these  are  the  three 
great  gifts  and  qualifications  of  the  good 
shepherd.  Power  to  defend  and  to  deliver ; 
wisdom  to  select  and  to  guide  and  to  restore  ; 
love  that  never  wearies,  never  forsakes,  never 
turns  aside  forgetful    of  the    flock.     With  us 


Rest.  205 

the  shepherd  is  above  all  a  man  of  peace ;  but 
as  he  appears  in  the  East  it  is  as  a  strong  man 
armed.  He  goes  forth  with  his  sheep  as  one 
who  goes  to  war.  A  long  gun  is  slung  from 
the  shoulder,  a  dagger  and  heavy  pistols  are 
thrust  in  the  belt,  and  a  light  axe  or  iron- 
headed  club  in  the  hand.  He  must  be  as 
brave  as  he  is  strong,  for  often  he  has  to  fight 
with  savage  beasts  of  prey,  as  David  did;  and 
when  the  robber  band  comes  the  good  shep- 
herd does  battle  for  his  flock,  and  sometimes 
loses  his  life  in  guarding  them. 

Come  then,  timid  soul,  think  of  the  might 
of  thy  Shepherd.  Well  may  we  lie  down  at 
rest  in  the  keeping  of  such  a  one  as  he  is. 
Hear  how  Isaiah  sings  of  his  greatness: 

"He  shall  feed  his  flock  like  a  shepherd: 
he  shall  gather  the  lambs  with  his  arm,  and 
carry  them  in  his  bosom,  and  shall  gently  lead 
those  that  are  with  young.  Who  hath  measured 
the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  .  .  .  and 
weighed  the  mountains  in  scales,  and  the  hills 
in  the  balance  ?  ...  It  is  he  that  sitteth  upon  the 
circle  of  the  earth,  and  the  inhabitants  thereof 
are  as  grasshoppers;  that  stretcheth  out  the 
heavens  as  a  curtain,  and  spreadeth  them  out 


2o6       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

as  a  tent  to  dwell  in.  .  .  .  Lift  up  your  eyes 
on  high,  and  behold  who  hath  created  these 
things,  that  bringeth  out  their  host  by  number : 
he  calleth  them  all  by  names  by  the  great- 
ness of  his  might,  for  that  he  is  strong  in  power ; 
not  one  faileth.  .  .  .  Hast  thou  not  known? 
hast  thou  not  heard,  that  .  .  .  the  Lord,  the 
Creator  of  the  ends  of  the  earth,  fainteth  not, 
neither  is  weary  ?  there  is  no  searching  of 
his  understanding.  He  giveth  power  to  the 
faint  ;  and  to  them  that  have  no  might  he 
increaseth  strength." 

How  safe  are  they  for  whom  he  cares ! 
With  what  assurance  of  safety  can  they  lie 
down  in  the  blessedness  of  his  keeping ! 

Then  beside  this  description  of  his  power 
set  the  picture  of  his  love  as  we  have  it  from 
himself: 

"  I  am  the  good  shepherd  :  the  good  shep- 
herd giveth  his  life  for  the  sheep.  But  he 
that  is  a  hireling,  and  not  the  shepherd, 
whose  own  the  sheep  are  not,  seeth  the  wolf 
coming,  and  leaveth  the  sheep,  and  fleeth  ; 
and  the  wolf  catcheth  them,  and  scattereth 
the  sheep.  ...  I  am  the  good  shepherd,  .  .  . 
and  I  lay  down  my  life  for  the  sheep." 


Rest.  207 

Look  up  to  him,  timid  soul — was  there  ever 
such  a  one  as  he  is  ?  For  me  he  hath  laid 
down  his  life.  He  hath  bought  me  with  a 
price — the  price  of  his  own  precious  blood. 
So  dear  am  I  to  his  heart.  And  now  with 
all  his  power  he  comes  to  care  for  me,  and 
to  lead  me  and  deliver  me.  Here  can  I  rest  in 
blessed  safety;  "he  maketh  me  to  lie  down." 

Then  further  needful  to  this  rest  is  the  con- 
stant presence  of  the  shepherd.  Many  have 
but  a  dead  Christ.  He  has  laid  down  his  life 
for  them,  and  in  his  death  they  find  their 
deliverance.  Many  have  a  far-off  and  glorified 
Christ,  who  is  gone  away  up  the  high  hill  of 
Zion.  These  cannot  rest.  What  of  his  power 
and  his  love  if  he  is  gone  away  ?  What  of 
that  life  if  it  only  lit  the  world  with  its  blaze 
of  glorious  brightness  eighteen  hundred  years 
ago,  and  left  to  all  the  ages  but  the  fading 
after-glow  of  the  better  times?  If  that  is  all, 
then  call  not  the  Church  a  bride ;  she  is  a 
widow  indeed  !  Yet  there  is  a  kind  of  thought, 
not  uncommon  among  Christians,  that  Christ 
has  gone  away,  and  sent  the  Holy  Spirit  to 
take  his  place.  Is  it  so  ?  "  It  is  expedient 
for  you  that  I  go  away  :  for  if  I  go  not  away, 


2o8       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

the  Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you  ;  but  if 
I  depart,  I  will  send  him  unto  you."  But 
why  ?  "  That  ye  may  be  strengthened  with 
might  by  the  Spirit  in  the  inner  man,  that 
Christ  may  dwell  in  your  heart."  "  Lo,  I  am 
with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
w^orld  !  "  The  blessed  Spirit  comes  to  en- 
lighten the  eyes  of  the  heart  that  we  may 
see  him  always,  to  open  the  ears  of  the  heart 
that  we  may  hear  his  voice  and  follow  him,  to 
bring  us  into  a  communion  with  him,  con- 
stant, unbroken,  more  real,  more  intimate  than 
was  possible  so  long  as  he  was  here  in  his 
bodily  presence.  Now  it  is  ours  to  know  and 
to  rejoice  in  the  largest  fulfillment  of  that 
ancient  promise,  "  My  presence  shall  go  with 
thee,  and  I  will  give  thee  rest." 

Our  rest  is  in  the  complete  abandonment  of 
ourselves  to  him.  He  is  mine,  and  I  am  his. 
He  altogether  mine,  and  all  that  he  is,  all  that 
he  has,  all  that  he  can  be,  and  all  that  he 
can  do,  mine.  And  I  altogether  his.  Out 
into  all  the  past  goes  the  hush  of  his  gracious 
forgiveness,  breathing  over  it  a  peace  that 
cannot  be  broken.  Close  over  me  he  standeth 
with   his  tender   whisper,   "  Fear  not ;  "  ever 


Rest.  209 

caring  for  me,  and  caring  for  me  in  every- 
thing. On  into  the  unknown  he  looketh.  He 
planneth  all,  he  provideth,  he  leadeth.  So, 
compassed  about   with    his   favor  as    with    a 

shield,  "  he  maketh  me  to  lie  down." 
14 


210      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

TRUST,   THE   SECRET   OF   REST. 

My  old  college  chum  had  dropped  in  to 
spend  the  evening  with  me — a  jaunty,  light- 
hearted  fellow.  We  used  at  one  time  to  meet 
daily,  he  having  nothing  particular  to  do,  and 
I  glad  to  have  the  loneliness  of  those  days 
broken  by  his  genial  laugh  and  ready  flow 
of  conversation.  But  our  ways  had  gone 
farther  and  farther  apart,  and  though  there 
was  still  all  the  old  friendliness,  yet  there  were 
few  matters  on  which  we  touched  with  a  com- 
mon interest.  As  for  me,  burdened  with  the 
care  of  a  large  district  in  a  very  poor  neigh- 
borhood, my  life  was  spent  in  trying  to  help 
many  in  a  fierce  struggle  against  want  and 
temptation  ;  trying  to  arouse  such  a  struggle 
in  others  who  had  never  found  any  heart  or 
hope  to  begin  it,  and  in  others  still  who  had 
lost  all  the  heart  and  hope  with  which  they 
had  once  begun. 

We  sat  together  forgetful  of  the  time,  for  it 


Trust,  the  Secret  of  Rest.  2 1 1 

was  an  evening  to  enjoy  an  hour  or  two  beside 
the  fire ;  and  it  was  pleasant  to  live  over 
again  the  old  times  and  to  trace  the  histories 
of  companions  and  rivals  in  class  lists  and 
games. 

Then  our  conversation  turned  to  more  se- 
rious matters.  Outside  was  a  blustering  win- 
ter's night,  with  howling  wind  and  beating 
rain,  and  we  drew  near  the  fire  pitying  the 
homeless  and  unsheltered,  and  wishing  all 
the  world  could  share  the  cosy  comfort  of  my 
hearth. 

So  the  hours  flew  by  until  in  upon  us 
boomed  the  tones  of  the  old  cathedral  clock 
as  it  struck  twelve,  swelling  louder  on  an 
angry  burst  of  wind,  then  faintly  dying. 

"  I  must  be  off,"  said  my  friend,  springing 
up  from  the  depths  of  the  easy-chair.  *'  I 
didn't  think  it  was  so  late." 

We  lingered,  standing  in  the  hall  to  have 
another  word  about  the  matter  we  had  been 
discussing,  he  thrusting  himself  into  his  great- 
coat while  I  talked.  Then  he  stood  at  the 
door,  and  had  the  last  word  of  the  argument. 

"  No,  no,"  said  he  ;  "  better  no  God  at  all 
than  a  belief  in  hell.     Good-night !  " 


2 1 2       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

Then  the  door  was  opened,  and  he  stepped 
out  into  the  blustering  darkness. 

I  shut  the  door  with  bolt  and  chain,  and 
came  back  and  sat  by  the  fire.  The  words 
went  ringing  on  in  my  mind,  "  Better  no  God 
at  all  than  a  belief  in  hell."  And  with  them 
came  back  the  thought  of  other  words  that  he 
had  spoken,  plainly  but  not  unkindly  :  "  You 
accept  a  tradition,  and  are  afraid  to  face  what 
would  disturb  your  creed  ; "  "  You  belong  to 
a  set,  and  drift  with  them  in  this  as  in  other 
things ;  "  "  Your  life  is  so  taken  up  in  the 
hard  practical  matters  of  daily  life  that  these 
distant  and  dreadful  theories  find  no  room  in 
your  thoughts." 

There  were  many  answers  that  lay  on  the 
surface.  My  friend,  too,  belonged  to  "  a  set," 
as  he  called  it  ;  a  set  with  whom  religion  was 
mostly  a  thing  of  tradition,  or  of  argument 
only ;  at  least  I  knew  that  he  had  neither 
opportunity  nor  care  to  search  into  the  matter 
as  I  had  tried  to  do.  The  Bible  was  to  him 
somewhat  old-fashioned,  and  he  was  some- 
what impatient  of  its  being  summoned  in  evi- 
dence. "  There  are  new  lights,"  he  said,  "  in 
which  the  age  must  read  and  interpret  that 


Trust,  the  Secret  of  Rest.  213 

book."  But  the  matter  was  far  too  deep  and 
serious  to  be  the  mere  subject  of  a  logical 
conflict.  It  pressed  upon  my  own  soul,  and 
demanded  the  answer  that  should  satisfy  my 
innermost  conviction. 

"  What  attitude  of  rest  or  peace  can  any 
man  find  who  holds  a  belief  in  hell  ?  "  he  had 
asked. 

"  I  can't  tell  you,"  I  answered."  But  there 
is  such  an  attitude,  and  I  think  I  have  found 
it." 

"  No,"  said  he,  confidently  ;  "  indifference, 
indoleace,  blindness,  sleep,  are  the  only  things 
that  make  that  possible." 

"  There  is  another,  stronger  and  better 
than  these,"  I  had  said  :  "  a  simple  trust  in 
God." 

Then  as  the  fierce  wind  howled  and  moaned 
at  the  window,  the  chilling  words  of  his  reply 
swept  over  me  again :  "  Better  no  God  at  all 
than  a  belief  in  hell."  My  New  Testament 
lay  within  reach  of  me,  and  I  took  it  up  and 
turned  over  its  pages. 

"  I  certainly  accept  this  as  the  word  of  God," 
I  said  to  myself,  "  and  how  can  I  do  any  thing 
else  ?     I    find  here  One  whom   I  cannot  but 


214       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

love,  and  trust,  and  delight  to  reverence  and 
serve  as  my  Father.  I  find  in  its  pages  not  a 
dead  history,  but  a  living  Friend  and  Brother, 
who  knows  me  as  no  other  does,  and  who 
meets  me  in  closest  heart  communion.  I  see 
him  stooping  to  the  lowest  depth  of  poverty 
and  sorrow,  enduring  every  agony  and  shame 
that  he  may  help  men.  In  him  all  my  power 
of  trust  rests  with  an  unutterable  confidence. 
I  find  in  him  the  noblest,  truest  life  of  which  I 
can  conceive.  I  find  in  him  a  power  that 
helps  me  to  be  like  him  in  spite  of  my  coarse 
selfishness.  And  in  seeking  to  follow  in  his 
steps  I  find  myself  living  a  higher  life  than  I 
can  live  in  any  other  way.  That  nobody  can 
make  me  doubt. 

"  And  yet,  and  yet,"  I  said  to  myself,  cau- 
tiously feeling  for  any  way  of  escape  that  there 
might  be,  "  I  find  in  this  same  word,  and  from 
these  gracious  lips,  utterances  dark  and  terri- 
ble. He  never  spake  harshly.  He  never 
spake  hastily.  He  never  stooped  to  invent  any 
terrors  by  which  to  frighten  men  into  being 
good.  Yet  he  warns  men  of  a  wrath  to  come, 
and  speaks  of  an  everlasting  punishment. 
Can  I,  dare  I,  brush  all  these  aside  lightly? 


Trust,  the  Secret  of  Rest.  2 1 5 

Or  shall  I  accept  the  word  and  trust  him  to 
make  it  clear  by  and  by?" 

My  Testament  had  opened  at  the  page 
which  of  all  others  was  perhaps  most  thumbed, 
and  my  eyes  fell  on  the  text  that  I  had  under- 
lined and  surrounded  with  references : 

"  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his 
only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth 
on  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlast- 
ing life." 

Yes,  God  was  to  me  the  infinitely  good. 
Not  one  lay  outside  his  love.  Not  one  in  all 
the  world  but  that  great  love  encompassed, 
like  God's  own  air  and  sunshine.  To  me  it 
would  be  the  veriest  hell  to  give  up  faith  and 
trust  in  him.  Life  would  then  become  the 
dreariest  loneliness — a  helpless  burden,  a  hope- 
less struggle.  Existence  itself  would  have 
neither  promise  nor  meaning. 

"  No ;  nothing  is  better,  nothing  can  be 
better  than  a  whole-hearted  trust  in  God,"  I 
said  aloud. 

"  Indifference,  indolence,  blindness,"  my 
friend  had  said.  "  Was  it  so  ?  "  I  asked  my- 
self. "  Was  there  some  deficiency  in  me, 
some  unsuspected  hardness,  grim  and  dread- 


2i6       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

ful,  from  which  my  friend  was  freed  ?  a  horri- 
ble stony  indifference  to  the  fate  of  the  lost?  " 
That  could  scarcely  be.  My  friend  himself 
was  of  all  men  the  one  who  most  often  and 
most  fiercely  blamed  me  for  my  folly  in  sacri- 
ficing myself,  as  he  said,  "for  such  a  hardened 
lot."  My  rooms,  my  position,  my  income,  all 
were  proof  enough — perhaps  more  proof  than 
I  always  cared  for — that  I  loved  my  neighbor 
at  least  with  a  love  that  was  not  in  word  only. 

Again  the  storm  burst  with  a  fury  that 
shook  the  house,  and  that  moaned  and  howled 
about  the  place,  and  in  upon  me  came  the 
words,  as  if  it  were  the  message  of  the  storm, 
*'  Better  no  God  at  all  than  a  belief  in  hell." 

Then  I  sat  thinking,  wondering,  question- 
ing, till  I  fell  asleep  and  dreamed.  .  .  . 

I  was  passing  through  a  city  where  the 
people  stood  in  knots  and  talked  of  some  hor- 
rible outrage  and  murder.  Men  and  women 
gathered  at  the  narrow  entry  of  their  courts 
and  told  indignantly  the  rumors  of  the  crime. 
Then  I  passed  the  building  where  the  judge 
was  sitting  to  try  the  prisoner  whose  case 
stirred  all  the  city. 

It  was  pleasant  to  get  away  from  these  dark 


Trust,  the  Secret  of  Rest.  217 

things,  outside  the  city  gates — pleasant  to 
leave  the  noise  and  crowd,  and  all  the  signs  of 
this  black  crime.  So  I  went  on  until  before 
me  lay  a  garden  in  all  the  rich  beauty  of  the 
spring. 

Under  the  shade  of  a  tree,  its  old  twisted 
branches  just  tipped  with  the  dainty  young 
green  leaves,  sat  a  little  maiden  of  some  ten 
years  arranging  a  bunch  of  flowers.  She  was 
singing  gayly,  staying  a  moment  to  turn  the 
nosegay  round  and  look  at  it,  then  singing 
on  again  as  she  took  up  another  violet  or 
primrose,  and  put  in  here  and  there  a  leaf  of 
ivy  or  a  fern.  The  light  fell  in  between  the 
young  leaves  in  sunny  patches  on  the  mossy 
trunk  of  the  tree,  and  touched  the  little  maid- 
en's hair  with  gold. 

Then  on  his  way  there  came  one  of  the  serv- 
ants, who  carried  a  scythe  in  his  hand.  He 
crossed  the  lawn  and  set  the  scythe  against 
the  tree,  and  there  he  stayed  watching  the  busy 
fingers  and  listening  to  the  maiden's  merry 
song.  A  sneer  curled  his  lip  and  a  dark 
frown  gathered  on  his  face  as  he  stooped  and 
picked  a  daisy  and  slowly  pulled  out  its  petals 
one  by  one,  letting  them  fall  at  his  feet.     He 


2i8       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

leaned  forward  so  that  his  shadow  fell  over 
her,  and  with  a  harsh  voice  that  startled  the 
singer  he  said, 

"  Do  you  know  what  your  father  is  going  to 
do?" 

"  No,"  said  the  little  maiden,  turning  the 
sunny  face  up  toward  him.  "  What  is  he  go- 
ing to  do?  " 

Then  with  a  voice  more  harsh  and  grating, 
and  a  darker  frown, 

"  Going  to  hang  that  poor  man  that  he 
tried  in  the  court  to-day,"    said  the  servant. 

"  Hang  him  !  "  she  said,  as  the  hands  fell 
down  at  her  side  and  the  sunshine  died.  And 
she  looked  up  with  wondering  eyes  and 
parted  lips. 

"  Yes,  going  to  hang  him,"  said  the  man, 
putting  his  rough  fingers  grimly  to  his 
throat.  "  Going  to  put  a  rope,  a  hard  rope 
that  will  hurt  him  dreadfully,  right  round  his 
neck,  and  hang  him." 

"  My  father  is  going  to?"  cried  the  little 
maiden,  bewildered. 

"  Yes,  your  father,"  sneered  the  servant. 

Her  cheek  grew  crimson  and  her  eyes 
flashed  fire.     "  My  father  never  would  !  "  she 


Trust,  the  Secret  of  Rest.  219 

said  indignantly,  rising  up  and  letting  the 
flowers  fall  unheeded  to  the  ground. 

"  You  will  see,  then,"  said  the  servant.  "  I 
heard  them  say  it  myself." 

The  sun  was  hidden  ;  the  blue  sky  gone 
behind  a  bank  of  stormy  cloud.  The  wind 
rose  in  fierce  gusts  howling  about  the  garden, 
sweeping  before  it  the  fallen  flowers.  The 
little  maiden  with  bitten  lips  and  angry  face 
went  in  and  sat  down  in  her  room. 

"  I  am  sure  my  father  never,  never  would," 
she  said. 

Then  she  leaned  at  the  window  and  looked 
out  over  the  garden.  Beyond  the  walls  rose 
the  roofs  of  the  grim  prison.  Slowly  the 
anger  died  out,  and  all  the  face  grew  sad. 
With  hands  that  hung  down  helplessly,  and 
tearful  eyes,  she  said  to  herself,  "  My  father 
going  to  hang  that  poor  man  !  to  hang  him  ! 
He  never  could  !  "  And  the  indignation 
touched  her  }et  again  for  a  moment,  but 
almost  at  once  it  turned  to  grief.  "And  yet, 
and  yet — poor  man  !  And  my  father  going 
to  hang  him!  O,  why  are  there  such  dread- 
ful things  as  prisons  and,  and — "  she  shud- 
dered   now    and    could    not    say    the    word. 


220       Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

"  Poor  man  !  "  she  said,  "  and  he  is  only  over 
there,  and  my  father  is  going  to — to  hang 
him!     My  father!" 

And  so  she  stood  and  looked  out  sorrow- 
ing. The  sun  was  going  down  in  a  lurid  sky. 
Great  masses  of  black  cloud  hung  overhead. 
The  darkness  just  parted  to  show  a  blood- 
red  streak  shaped  like  a  sword.  The  wind 
moaned  and  howled  about  the  corners  of  the 
old  house. 

"  How  dreadful !  "  sighed  the  little  maiden 
to  herself;  ''my  father  going  to  hang  him! 
Poor,  poor  man  !  "  .  .  . 

Then  I  saw  myself  in  a  large  room  where  a 
grave  man  sat  at  dinner.  A  face  noble  and 
generous,  that  one  could  trust  assuredly  at 
once,  with  firmness  and  strength  and  earnest- 
ness in  every  look  and  tone  and  word,  and 
over  all  a  great  benevolence.  Beside  him  a 
chair  was  set,  and  plate  and  knife  and  fork, 
and  as  he  finished  dinner  he  turned  to  the 
servant. 

"  Where  is  the  little  mistress  to-night  ? " 
he  asked.     "  Isn't  she  well  ?  " 

Then  presently  in  came  the  little  maiden. 
She  who  was  used  to  greet  her  father  with 


Trust,  the  Secret  of  Rest.  221 

the  sunny  face  and  many  words  of  welcome 
came,  sad  and  with  slow  steps,  without  a 
word. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  little  one  ?  "  said  the 
father,  holding  out  his  hand  to  her. 

She  took  the  hand  and  looked  up  in  the 
father's  face  almost  reproachfully.  And  then 
with  a  great  sob  and  eyes  that  brimmed  with 
grief, 

"  Father,  you  are  not  going  to- — to  hang 
him,  are  you  ?     Poor,  poor  man  !  " 

Then  the  father's  face  grew  sad  as  the 
maiden's  own,  and  he  laid  the  little  head 
against  himself  and  put  his  arm  about  her. 
Only  the  wind  moaned  at  the  window ;  not 
another  sound  was  heard  for  some  min- 
utes. Then  the  father  stroked  the  hair 
tenderly,  and  he  turned  the  face  up  toward 
himself. 

"  My  child,"  said  he,  ''  can  you  trust  me  ?  " 

She  looked  up  at  him,  and  as  she  looked 
her  whole  face  seemed  to  say,  "  What  else 
could  I  do  ?  "  She  put  her  arm  about  his 
neck. 

"  Yes,  father,"  she  said,  "  of  course  I  can." 

"  Trust   me  to  do  what  is  right  and  kind 


222      Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life. 

and  good?"  he  asked,  still  stroking  her  hair 
tenderly. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  maiden,  laying  her  head 
against  him  as  if  she  could  rest  there. 

"  Then  trust  me  still,"  said  he,  "  and  one 
day  you  will  understand."  .  .  . 

And  then  I  awoke  and  thought  of  our 
childhood  ;  and  I  thought  of  faculties  that 
may  develop  in  us  too,  and  reconcile  a 
thousand  things  such  as  perplex  and  trouble. 

"  Thank  God,"  said  I,  "  I  am  content  to  be 
a  child  ;  to  trust  and  wait." 


THE  END. 


V 


